


Break Free

by General_Button



Series: Break Free [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Non-Consensual Flashback, Omega!Shiro, Post-Season/Series 01 Finale, Soul Bond, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 10:34:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 38,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8621101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/General_Button/pseuds/General_Button
Summary: After the events of season one, Shiro finds himself trapped on an unfamiliar planet with the someone he thought he'd left behind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Despite what the tags suggest, this will have a happy ending. It'll just take some time to get there. Sendak's anatomy was inspired by [this piece of fanart](http://erodremus.tumblr.com/post/150340589209/todays-doodles-are-dedicated-to-eldoriito-who). 
> 
> An additional note: I'd like to remind everyone of the consent issues involved in some aspects of omegaverse. It's only one scene, but if that isn't your thing then this might not be for you.

**NOW**

 

Shiro clutched to his sense of reality, but as he was tossed through the wormhole, it was getting increasingly difficult to hold on. There were colors and lights flashing in front of his eyes, his line of vision scrambled; he squeezed them shut, knuckles white against the arms of his chair. He had to push back against the panic clawing its way up his throat in the form of a scream.

His lion came to an abrupt stop minutes later and he catapulted forward, pain exploding along his hip as he slammed into the controls. He let out a loud breath of air, eyes snapping open. His lion was still spinning, stars moving like streaks in front of his screen. His stomach lurched, and he scrambled to regain his balance, hands working desperately at the levers to right his lion.

For a few minutes, he could do nothing but breathe.

 _Everything’s okay. You’re fine,_ he kept telling himself. He tried to take a deep breath, and eventually succeeded. _In, out. In, out._

Once he was no longer in danger of losing onto his lunch, he peered out into the spacious void he was in, trying to determine where his teammates had gone. To his left there was an unfamiliar planet in the far-off distance. A glance to his right told him that he was dangerously close to being drawn to another planet’s atmosphere.

“Where am I?” he whispered, leaning back into his seat. He forced himself to relax, then reached above and turned on the communications hub, testing the connection before he began speaking.

“Guys!” he called, waiting a beat. “Is anyone there? I can’t see anyone.”

There was no response.  

“Hello? Lance? Keith?” He took hold of the controls and flew his lion in a large circle, peering out into the darkness. “Pidge? Coran? Come on, somebody has to be out there.”

The panic that he’d just set aside was starting to make a comeback.

Shiro took his lion back towards where he’d come from, searching the empty space in hope that he might spot one of his wayward teammates. When nothing presented itself, he stopped moving.

_What happened?_

He remembered Coran mentioning something about the integrity of the wormhole being compromised. After that, he’d been preoccupied with trying to keep a steady hand as they were all ripped from the ship and tossed about. He could still hear the other paladin’s screams echoing in his ears.

He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face.

Now he was here. Alone.

“ _Fuck._ ” Shiro slammed his fist against the arm of his chair. “If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Come in, anybody! It’s Shiro.”

His fingers were shaking as he took control of the lion, Zarkon’s words echoing in his head.

_Your connection is weak._

What connection had he been talking about? Was it just the lion, or did he somehow know about… _that_?

Shiro shoved those thoughts aside, focusing on figuring out how the hell he was going to get home.

To his left there was a small cluster of floating asteroids, and further to his right was the only planet in the immediate vicinity. It looked like Earth, with a huge, spanning ocean surrounding huge patches of land scattered throughout.

Looking at it he felt a sudden, deep ache echo inside him.

He missed Earth. The last time he’d been there, he’d only visited for a _day_.

Decided, he eased his lion into the planet’s atmosphere, allowing it to swallow and send him shooting for the surface.

When he was relatively close, Shiro pulled back on the controls, using the lion’s blasters to propel himself upward, slowing his descent. There were two huge patches of land directly underneath accompanied by a stretch of river in between. He aimed for the water just to be safe.

On the ground, the sights that greeted him were like something out of a dream.

Everything was so _green._ The jungle behind and in front of him stretched for miles, and the thick foliage continued up into the high mountain ranges. It didn’t look dissimilar from some parts of Earth. After checking to make sure that his helmet was on tight, he stepped out of his lion to do some recon.

Judging by the sand bank that he had landed on, the river running between the two islands was oceanic. He knelt into a crouch and fingered at the grains of sand. Unlike Earth sand, it was soft to the touch and dusky pink. If Pidge were here, she might have had some theories about its makeup.

As he made to stand, a brown crab-like creature crawled across his foot, waving its claws in the air before continuing on its journey. Shiro watched it until it disappeared, then turned his attention to the water. The shade of blue was a little different than on Earth, but it didn’t seem toxic, by any means. Not that he was an expert.

He peered into the crystal-clear depths, watching as small fish scattered at the sight of him.

Out of all the planets in the universe, at least this wasn’t the worst one to be on. On one hand, he was virtually stranded and alone, but on the other, he wasn’t a prisoner on a Galra ship; anything was better than that.

“Okay,” he breathed, pushing himself to his feet. “Time to get some resources. If I’m going to be stuck here, I’m gonna need wood for fire and then…” he glanced around, spotting a nearby fruit tree. “Perfect. I’ll just—”

The sight of something glinting in the sunlight froze him in his tracks. Behind the fruit tree and up on a hill, barely distinguishable on the horizon, there was something metallic glimmering in the sunlight.

“Maybe there are people here,” Shiro said, cautious hope flitting inside him. His lion would be safe in its protective bubble, so he left it alone, jogging towards the metal. He picked some fruit from the trees on his way there, ultimately deciding that if this planet housed life similar to Earth’s, then it couldn’t hurt to be prepared.

It took a while walking, but once he reached the top of the hill, he looked around and quickly spotted what had caught his eye. Once he was close enough to see what it was, he gasped.

It was a pod. From a _ship_.

Upon close inspection, he noted that the interior was completely empty and the glass covering the front was shattered.

Shiro stroked the sharp edge, frowning.

“Whoever was inside must’ve forced their way out,” he murmured. It didn’t bode well, but he would rather find company and deal with the consequences later. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Hello? Is anybody here?”

There was no immediate response. After giving it two mores tries, Shiro gave up scaring away the wildlife and moved around to the other side of the pod. His eyes followed the smooth, undamaged curve. Clearly, whatever species had designed this technology was advanced. Aside from the broken glass, there wasn’t a scratch on it.

It was, however, deeply lodged in the sand, and moving it seemed an impossible feat. Shiro tried pushing at it from the back, but it was heavy; he was panting by the time he’d managed to expose some of the underbelly.

He leaned against the pod to rest, head tipped downward, and that was when he saw it—

There was an insignia. A very familiar insignia. The engraved insignia was barely visible, but now that he was seeing it, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before.

_Altea. This is an Altean pod. Don’t tell me—_

“No,” he whispered, stumbling back. His heart stopped.

Then he heard it. The voice that had been haunting his dreams, his _nightmares_ ; a voice that both terrified and exhilarated him. It was—

“Shiro?”

—Sendak.

Shiro spun around to face Sendak, eyes going round with surprise.

Sendak looked equally shocked, his mouth agape. Then surprise on his face quickly melted into one of casual aloofness. As if this wasn’t the biggest meet-up of the century.

He took a tentative step towards Shiro, and Shiro raised his fist threateningly.

It was clear that his time here hadn’t been kind to Sendak. He wasn’t as dirty as Shiro would have expected, but his fur was matted around his cheeks and chin, the thick hair around his chest in disarray. He was wearing his bodysuit, but only the armor from the waist down.

“You,” Shiro started, taking a step back. He didn’t let his eyes wander past Sendak’s chest. “How are you _here?_ You’re—you were—”

“Dead? I’m certain you’d like to think so,” he replied, lips curling. “One cracked pod won’t kill me, I assure you.”

Shiro shook his head, dumbfounded.

“I’m hallucinating,” he said. A hysterical bubble of laughter erupted from his throat. “There’s no way that we’d land on the same planet by pure _chance_. This place has made me crazy.”

“I assure you, your sanity is intact. But I’ll admit that this _is_ a surprise. To think that my omega would somehow find his way back to me is very interesting.”

“No,” Shiro growled, taking another step back and nearly tripping in his haste. His heart gave a panicked flutter. “No, I am not doing this again.” Sendak shifted towards him, and Shiro’s hand shot out, slicing aimlessly at the air. “Stay away from me!”

Sendak took a step towards him, heedless of his warning.

Shiro bolted.

He turned and ran, sprinting down the hill as fast as humanly possible. He kept running until he’d reached his lion, struggling for a few seconds to get inside.

It wasn’t until he was in space that his body caught up with him, reminding him that he hadn’t seen his alpha in weeks. The mark on his throat throbbed like nothing he’d ever felt before; he hissed, slapping his hand over the skin. It only served to convince Shiro to fly faster, to get away even quicker.

_Of all the rotten luck in the world—_

The person that he thought he’d left behind—that he _had_ left behind just kept coming back again and again. It was like—like a _disease_. He just couldn’t seem to be rid of him. Of them. The part of himself he’d been trying to squash ever since he’d returned to Earth.

Shiro pressed his hands over his face, taking deep, calming breaths in an attempt to quell the rapid beating of his heart.

 

**ONE YEAR AGO**

 

Shiro was burning.

The floor underneath his hands was cold as ice, but his body felt like it was on fire. He clenched his fists as a wave of want swept through him, lust punching him in the gut, turning his insides into molten heat. He grit his teeth against a sob, trying not to move, lest he make it worse.

Heat. Of _course_ it had to be heat.

Due to the length of their journey, he’d been taking suppressants for the trip, but those had been lost during their capture. His next heat should have been many months from now when he was  back home, safely in his bed surrounded by a variety of heat-specific toys. Instead he was on a strange ship, headed off to who-knew-where, stuck in a cold, dirty cell.

At first, in the initial days of their capture, Shiro had been able to put aside thoughts of his cycle. The days and nights blurred together, nearly indistinguishable from each other because the ship operated in open space.

Aside from worrying about Matt and the professor, he’d been more than a little curious about his captors.

Apparently, the person that had captured them was someone named ‘Zarkon’. If what he heard was to be believed, he was some kind of universal overlord. Other than that, the details of his capture, the reasoning behind his crusade—all of it remained a mystery.

The day that his heat started, it was pure luck that he’d been allowed sequester from fighting in the arena. Since Shiro was a fan favorite, and the ringleaders no longer wanted him to perish without giving some fight, they afforded him a break every now and again.

It surprised him that something so essential to his well-being had slipped his mind. Heat was in the considerations of every omega on Earth, and they never really _forgot_ their cycles. His body must have sensed that it was happening days before, but he’d been so preoccupied with the arena, the druids, and his usual concerns for his crew that he hadn’t given it a second thought.

When he realized that he was going into heat—whether he wanted to or not—he started to panic.

If his heat lasted more than a day, then he didn’t know what he was going to do. There was nothing he _could_ do. His only option was to suffer through it and hope that his heat would let him off early this time. He _prayed_ that it did.

 _And after?_ his mind offered stubbornly. _What about the rest?_

He tried not to think too hard about that.

* * *

Shiro gnawed on his thumb, shuddering as another wave rolled through him. He could barely concentrate on the cell wall in front of him. He wanted relief so _badly_.

“Ah, if it isn’t the champion,” came a familiar voice from outside the cell.

Shiro went stiff. _No, no, no. Not now._

“You look pathetic. Did your last battle with the thorax-crusher render you useless?”

It was him. Sendak.

He liked to watch Shiro’s matches, offering him offhand insults and little anecdotes often disguised as “advice”. Shiro didn’t know much about him, but he knew that he was in the upper ranks—some kind of commander—and Zarkon trusted him.

Shiro curled into a tighter ball, feeling hot, wet slick leak out of him at the motion. He didn’t answer Sendak’s inquiry, pressing his lips together to keep from making a sound. He prayed that Sendak would leave him be once he decided it wasn’t worth antagonizing him.

There was a brief silence, and all his hopes were dashed when he heard the quiet hiss of the door sliding open. His muscles, which were bunched into tight knots, stiffened to the point of pain. He started trembling.

“Have you contracted a human sickness? And you neglected to tell the druids?” Sendak said sharply, approaching his curled form. Shiro couldn’t stop shaking. He could feel the sweat beading on his neck, sliding down his nape. “You smell…off.”

“You can smell me?” Shiro grit out. He didn’t move; he didn’t dare. Any movement might make it worse. He was already fighting against the instinct to claw at Sendak’s clothing and _beg_ him for help.

“We of the Galra have heightened senses that you cannot possibly comprehend. Normally, you reek of your natural musk, but at this moment you smell of something,” he paused, the words rolling off his tongue, sending shivers down Shiro’s spine, “sweeter.”

“I’m sick,” he blurted. He was still shaking but now for a _very_ different reason.

 _I can do this,_  he thought, gnawing on his lower lip. _I don’t need him. I’ve survived heats that came out of the blue before. I can do this._

He felt, rather than saw Sendak kneel in front of him, and then fingers were pulling at his hair, lifting his body until he was forced onto his knees. Sendak gripped him by his chin, peering into his eyes.

“What are you hiding?” he growled, his voice a low rumble that was sending Shiro’s instincts into overdrive. He didn’t smell like anything Shiro had ever known, but his body recognized the signs of an alpha loud and clear. He felt slick trail down his thigh, wetting the thin bodysuit he wore.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shiro said, his voice wavering. “I don’t feel well. If you leave me alone, I’ll get better—”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t do that,” Sendak said, sickly sweet. “You’re hiding something. I know it. It must be the source of your scent, nearly undetectable to insects like the soldiers standing guard outside your room. But to me—” He stopped to take a deep inhale. “—I can _taste_ it.”

God, that voice.

A strangled sound that he couldn’t hope to control escaped from the back of Shiro’s throat. Sendak was so close, and he smelled _so_ good. He didn’t even know if his species had reproductive organs, but he wanted him more than anything he’d wanted in his life.

“There, there,” Sendak continued, stroking his cheek. He trailed his nails down Shiro’s throat, using his free hand to reach at Shiro’s crotch. “I recognize this. You humans are not so different from us. The smell is coming from here and…somewhere else.”

He leaned down, holding Shiro’s head high as he located the source. When he realized it was coming from _behind_ him, he turned Shiro around, pushing his head roughly against the floor. He pressed one finger against the wet spot and Shiro let out a shocked moan.

He tried to push himself to his feet, but his fingers felt like rubber, slipping against the floor, and Sendak’s hand was still buried in his hair, holding him there. Shiro should have been angry, but it made the primal part of him rear its head, and he spread his legs instinctively.

“I don’t remember your other companions experiencing anything quite like this. Perhaps I should pay them a visit.”

Panic filtered through the cloud of lust.

“They’re not like me!” he cried, tugging against Sendak’s hold. “I’m an omega. This only happens to people like me.”

“Explain an ‘omega’.”

“It’s—it’s complicated.” Shiro licked his lips. “Our people are classified as either alphas, betas, or omegas. Omegas go through cycles. They’re, they’re called heats. It’s reproductive like you said, and we can’t control it— _ah._ ”

He cried out as Sendak pressed that same finger against his hole, teasing the entrance. Shiro hips move on their own, rocking back against the intrusion.

“I understand now. That’s why you smell this way. It’s a mating ritual, meant to attract a mate.”

“Yes,” Shiro gasped, relieved. “Yes. My scent changes and I—we want to mate. That’s why you should leave me alone. I’m not sick, and in a day or so, I’ll be better. Just—go.”

“Is that what you really want?” Sendak purred. The bodysuit that he wore wasn’t durable by any means, but when Shiro felt Sendak’s claws sink into the fabric and _rip it apart_ , he shuddered, temperature flaring at the show of strength.

_No! I don’t need him. I can handle this. I don’t need him. I won’t—_

Shiro’s thoughts to a running halt when he felt the pressure of Sendak’s finger enter him. His claw scraped his skin, skidding across the flesh dangerously, but he was so wet at this point that the digit slipped in with ease, burying itself deep.

“I ask again: is that what you really want? You’re practically begging for my aid.”

“I—“ Shiro’s resolve, which had been sketchy at best, started melting like butter. Despite his hatred for Sendak and everything he stood for, he couldn’t imagine surviving even another minute without relief. “Oh god. I can’t—think. I can’t think like this.”

“I will help you, free of charge,” Sendak added. “Seeing you writhing underneath me is payment enough. All you have to do is _ask_.”

Of course he wouldn’t even take the decision away from Shiro and just take what he wanted. No; instead, he was going to make him _beg_ for it.

Shiro didn’t want to say yes; in fact, he wanted anything but this. But then he thought about trying to survive the next few hours like this, wet and miserable and without relief, and as much as he hated Sendak, he was afraid that trying to survive the heat on his own might not end well.

Shiro lowered his head in defeat. “Please,” he whispered, nearly imperceptible in the quiet.

“I didn’t quite catch that.”

“Please!” he repeated, louder. “Please, help me. I can’t stand this anymore.”

“Finally, the champion has fallen.” Sendak chuckled, deep and dark, and then he pulled his finger out of Shiro and wiped it on his bodysuit before standing. He started walking away and Shiro panicked, his pride evaporating at the thought of losing his chance for relief.

“Wait!” he cried, reaching towards Sendak.

Sendak glanced at him but didn’t stop moving until he was at the door.

“Guards,” he barked. They snapped to attention, as if they hadn’t been listening that entire time. “You will not disturb me unless it is an emergency. Any guests, send them away. I will be dealing with the prisoner for some time. Alone.”

There was a distinct pause, and then the guard on the left spoke up. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Sendak turned, approaching Shiro with a single-minded focus. “I hope you’re ready, champion.”

He hated that name, hated it with every fiber of his being.

“My name is Shiro,” he said defiantly, picking up the pitiful scraps of his remaining dignity. “Don’t call me champion.”

Sendak grunted something that could have implied agreement, but Shiro lost his clutches on coherent thought when he felt Sendak press two fingers into his ass, pushing them as far as they would go.

Shiro shuddered, moaning into his forearm, gushing hotly in the wake of Sendak’s torment.

“Ah.” He ran his thumb along Shiro’s inner thigh, spreading the liquid as it dribbled down his skin. “This is where the scent smells strongest. I presume this is where I enter you.”

Shiro nodded wordlessly.

There was the sound of rustling, and then he heard the metal clank of heavy equipment falling to the ground. Shiro almost opened his mouth to question Sendak’s willingness to make himself vulnerable, but thought better of it. He was just glad, relieved as he felt hands grip him by his hips, positioning him. Then Sendak’s fingers snuck into his hair, yanking his head backwards, and he felt it.

He was big. Bigger than any toy Shiro had used.

From his position against the floor he couldn’t see what it looked like, but he could feel the small ridges running along the length of Sendak’s sex as he slid it between Shiro’s cheeks. He jerked when he felt another thick object brush against his inner thigh, quickly coming to the realization that it wasn’t Sendak’s hand. Then there was another on his right asscheek. Startled, Shiro craned his neck to look underneath him, and his breath caught.

Bearing a shape that was similar to tentacles, the three appendages protruding from Sendak’s body appeared to be a part of his genitalia; like that of a cock and balls, but the cock had been replaced with a bigger, thicker appendage that was lightly furred. It was mirrored by two smaller tendrils, writhing freely.

Shivers crawled up his back as Sendak position himself, pressing the round tip of his sex against Shiro’s ass. He was still tense, fingers white against the floor, unsure whether or not he could actually take Sendak’s dick. He opened his mouth to caution him, but all of Shiro’s remaining resistance suddenly melted away when Sendak pushed inside him.

Not only was he big, but he was _too_ big. Even though his body went forcibly limp, trying to accommodate his girth, Shiro felt like he was being split apart. He screamed into his arm, spreading his legs as far as they’d go and bearing down.

Sendak never erred, sliding inside Shiro inch by painful inch, and just when he thought he couldn’t take it, he bottomed out, lodging fully inside.

It hurt like hell. There were wet tears clinging to Shiro eyelashes, but his body was responding pressing back, eagerly urging Sendak deeper.

“You feel—marvelous, for an Earth-creature,” Sendak hissed. “Your body is soft and pliant. Are all humans this receptive?”

Shiro moaned in response. Aside from the pain, he felt full and sated, completely owned by Sendak. He shouldn’t have loved the feeling of fingers in his hair, claws scraping against his skull, but as Sendak pulled him up and _thrust_ , he shuddered, tingling pleasure erupting inside him. His hips moving on their own, body trying desperately to squeeze down and urge Sendak’s massive sex deeper.

“Fuck. _Fuck_.” He’d barely moved, but when he felt the tip of Sendak’s dick press against the tight knot of his core, he cried out, body seizing and his cock twitching weakly. As if noticing his reaction, Sendak he pulled out and repeated the motion, quickly working up an incredible speed.

Sendak’s following thrusts were brutal, relentless, _animalistic._ He didn’t let up for even a second; Shiro was helpless, bracing his hands on the floor just to keep himself from tipping over.

It felt so, so good.

He’d never had sex with an alpha before, but if it was anything like this, he’d been missing out _._

Within minutes, Shiro went wire-tight, shuddering through his second internal orgasm. Sendak slowed for a beat, but only so he could grip Shiro by his chin and turn his head, forcing him to look at Sendak.

“What do you need?” he growled, his breathing coming out in hot puffs. He towered over Shiro, so much bigger than any alpha he’d ever seen. “Is this all you desire?”

“I need—“ Shiro’s eyes fluttered closed as Sendak slammed into him, then worked his sex into Shiro in a slow, rolling grind. “Oh, god, deeper. Yes, _yes_.” Shiro scraped his fingers over the floor, trying desperately to work his ass against the intrusion from his position.

“I will not repeat myself again,” Sendak barked.

Shiro tried to recall what he’d said. His mind felt fuzzy, lost against the ferocity of his own need.

“I’m sorry, I can’t—”

“What. Do. You. Need,” Sendak said, puncturing each words with a thrust of his hips.

“I need you to knot me,” Shiro blurted. “Probably don’t have knots. Just stay inside me even after you come. With omegas, we—”

“You do not get to order me around,” Sendak said, gripping Shiro harshly by his hips. “Explain this ‘knot’.”

He gave Shiro a series of sharp, brutal thrusts, hovering above him, growling and exhibiting a possessiveness that made Shiro’s mind go blank. He didn’t think it was possible to come untouched a third time, but Sendak was thick all over, and he kept brushing Shiro’s prostate with precision, the ridges scraping his insides and sending Shiro’s nerves into overdrive.

“It’s—fuck, it’s, it’s when the base of an alpha’s penis inflates. It’s like a, ah, a plug. Keeps us sated, full.”

The sound of his own voice, loud and needy, shocked him, but he’d long given up on concealing his voice or his moans, and he didn’t doubt that his screams could be heard all the way down the hall. Shiro didn’t care; he didn’t care about any of that. He wanted— _needed_ —Sendak to come inside him, to knot him.

When he finally did, it was like nothing Shiro expected.

There was no knot, but he thrusts inside until his pelvis was pressed against Shiro’s ass, stretching him past the point of pleasure. Shiro wasn’t certain how this was going to convince his body that he was knotted, but then the two thick tendrils that had remained curled around his thighs slid towards his ass. They started prodding and prying at his rim, trying to force their way inside him.

He gasped, squirming, stretched past the point of discomfort. Pain ricocheted up his spine, and Shiro was about to cry out for him to stop, but when Sendak managed to force one of them in, Shiro felt something else inside him—something indescribable but distinctly instinctual— _ease_.

He went limp just as Sendak started to come, and there was so, so much of it. Shiro couldn’t stop shifting as Sendak came and came, filling him until Shiro felt like he’d burst. He was so full, absolutely stuffed by Sendak’s cock.

“Fuck,” he whispered, hands scraping weakly against the hard floor. “God, that was—no!” Sendak started moving backwards, pulling away and Shiro clenched down, reaching behind him blindly. “Don’t move, please, please don’t move.”

“Why.”

“My body thinks it’s knotted. If you pull out, I—I don’t know what could happen.”

Sendak sighed, then trailed his finger down the back of Shiro’s sweat-soaked shirt. “How long.”

“It…depends.”

He let out a sound to indicate his displeasure. “And how long does this last in its entirety?”

Shiro was silent.

“Champion—or should I call you ‘Shiro’?—tell me how long you expect me to stay in this grimy cell.”

“I don’t know, okay? Sometimes it’s just a day, but then other times, it can be multiple. I’m in a stressful environment, so I just don’t know.”

The hands were back in his hair again, and Shiro’s vision blurred as Sendak tugged at his hair, bending him over backwards. He ground his cock into Shiro, drawing another moan of out him.

“I don’t have all day to play house with you, _champion_ ,” he spat. “I would leave you here, but your scent has truly reached its height. I imagine that half out of the ship can smell you now. What others do you suppose share an interest in you, hm?”

“I—” Shiro’s mouth was dry at the prospect of being abandoned at his most vulnerable hour. “Please.” He hated begging, _hated_ it, but he hated the thought of being alone even more. “Don’t leave. Just for a while longer—”

Sendak laughed, his voice reverberating in the quiet cell. “Perhaps I _will_ take you in, only because I find your pathetic need amusing. Once you have finished with your ‘knotting’, I will bring you back to my quarters.”

“What?” Shiro’s mind went blank. Quarters? He’d barely seen the outside of his cell, and Sendak wanted to take him to his room? Was he living in an alternate universe?

“I will not repeat myself.” His claws threatened Shiro, but instead of feeling threatened, he felt his cock twitch.

He was immediately disgusted with himself.

After another ten minutes, Shiro nodded at Sendak, indicating that he could pull out, and when he did, Shiro felt deeply bereft, immediately turning around to paw at Sendak like a man possessed. Sendak wasn’t nearly as affected by the heat of his fever, and gathered himself, putting on his armor and accessories before he scooped Shiro into his arms.

“Guards, you will not speak a word of this,” he hissed at the door. They nodded, well aware of the reality of Sendak’s threats. “You there, on the right.”

“Yes, Sendak, sir.”

“You will bring the nourishment supplements to my quarters. Then you will leave, and continue to guard this cell.”

“What if…one of the druids come by?” the other spoke up timidly.

Shiro wound himself tighter around Sendak, whimpering.

Sendak grinned, slow and dark. “I’m certain you’ll think of something.”

They left without another word.

Shiro was being carried like he weighed nothing, cradling in Sendak’s large arms, and even though Shiro knew he should be looking around and attempting to remember the layout of this ship, his mind kept slipping, thoughts of relief and Sendak’s scent all-encompassing.

As they moved, Shiro could feel Sendak’s come leaking out of him, mixing with the slick that he was producing. He shivered, burying his face in Sendak’s throat while his fingers pried absently at his armor. He knew he’d have relief soon, but he couldn’t stop himself; he needed it _now_.

Sendak waited until the door was fully shut behind them before tossing Shiro onto the large bed, claws immediately reaching to pry off his armor. Shiro took little notice of his surroundings, preoccupied with crawled to the edge of the bed to reach for Sendak.

The way that Sendak’s eyes followed him showed that he wasn’t the only one affected by this ordeal.

Sendak crawled over top of him, urging Shiro’s thighs apart, and he lost all sense of time.

Sendak’s endless stamina was a relief for both of them. Most of the time Shiro preferred to be on his hands and knees taking it from behind, but he soon found that Sendak liked have him in his lap, bouncing on his cock while his hands roamed freely over his body.

“What would your friends think to see you like this?” he murmured, dragging a claw across Shiro’s nipple. He jerked, legs trembling to hold himself upright. “I’ve never met a being that could keep up with my stamina before.”

He didn’t have a response to Sendak’s question, his thoughts consumed by being impaled by his length. Positioned like this, with warm, large hands running along his chest, stomach, and hips, his cock trapped between their bodies, Shiro was in bliss.

Sendak nipped lightly at his shoulder. Shiro exposed his throat, instinct urging him to encourage the alpha to bite. He could feel every inch of Sendak every time he plunged down onto his dick, the small ridges rubbing all the sensitive nerves inside of him until he was squirming, caught between the urge to stay exactly where he was or fuck himself harder.

Sendak made the decision for him, gripping his hips and fucking up into Shiro until he all he could do was cry out his name over and over, hiccupping moans drowned out by the sound of Sendak growling in his ear.

As his heat started to wind down, and when the need to hop onto Sendak’s dick had lessened, Shiro fell asleep. He curled into a ball and buried his nose in the soft sheets, too tired to do much else.

He slept better than he had in weeks, but there was still a sense of unease burning inside him. The omega part of him felt like something was missing. Instinct encouraged him to bond with a potential mate, and he wanted to be bonded more than anything, but with a man—an _alien—_ like Sendak, he knew it was impossible.

At least, that was what he’d thought.

When Shiro woke from his nap, Sendak was already climbing overtop him, rubbing the wet tip of his sex against Shiro’s hole. He groaned, pressing his face into the sheets as Sendak moved his hands on either side of Shiro and started thrusting. Shiro reached around and spread himself wide, trying to urge him in deeper.

Sendak leaned down, scraping his teeth against Shiro’s shoulder, and he exposed his throat again. This time, instead of ignoring it, Sendak bent forward and bit at the spot on the base of his neck, sending hot shivers rippling through Shiro.

“You continue to expose this particular vulnerability to me. Explain,” he demanded, slowing his pace until he was only half buried inside Shiro.

“Bonding,” Shiro gasped, half of his mind with need. He grabbed fistfuls of the sheets, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to collect his thoughts. “Normally an alpha and omega couple bond. It’s—” he tried to think of a viable explanation, “—like a spiritual connection.”

Sendak inched inside him, bringing his arms around Shiro’s waist and pulling him half upright.

“How is this bond initiated?”

“You have to be an alpha. The, the alpha bites the base of the throat during a knotting and then that’s it.”

“I see.”

Sendak said little else for the next half hour, but he increased his efforts, laying Shiro down and hiking his leg against his chest, giving him the leverage needed to penetrate him a deep angle. Shiro keened, fingers scrambled for purchase, chest heaving, and when he came, Sendak was leaning over before Shiro had even realized what was happening.

He bit down onto the base of Shiro’s neck, _hard_.

Pain exploded, flaring along his neck and shoulders as Sendak buried his teeth into his skin. Shiro screamed, catapulting into orgasm.

It shouldn’t have been possible, but he felt—something. He stayed still, instinct urging him not to break a newly forming bond. Sendak’s breath was hot on his neck, and then—

It was happening. He could feel the bond forming, reaching, trying to but not quite making it to completion. His pleasure reached new heights; his skin felt like it was on fire. If only he could complete it, if only—

Then he came to his senses.

“Wh-why did you do that?!” Shiro snapped, hot with anger. “I said you couldn’t bond with me! Fuck, fuck, I’m _bleeding_.”

“Calm down, champion,” Sendak rumbled. “I was only claiming what was mine. If you expect to survive on this ship, you will need me around to protect you.”

“I can protect myself. I shouldn’t even _be_ on this ship. You just want to control me, just like everyone else!”

“You claimed it wouldn’t work.”

“That doesn’t mean you should try it!” he tried to pull away, but Sendak wasn’t finished inside him, and Shiro was still on the cusp of his heat. He started moving, and Shiro bit back a groan, his concerns starting to fade.

“This isn’t over,” he said, clawing at the sheets.

After another round, the exhausted Shiro fell into another, even deeper sleep.

As much as his mind protested their involvement, his body had relaxed considerably knowing that he’d been bonded. He felt safe and warm for the first time since he’d arrived on Zarkon’s ship, floating on a post-bonding cloud and his own hormones.

Shiro felt so good that when he woke up, for a split second, he almost expected to be back at home, as if it had been all one horrible dream. The sheets under his fingers were soft, but strangely textured, much like the ones at the garrison, and the dark color of the comforter almost looked like his own.

For a moment, he felt so happy that he thought he might cry.

Then he sensed movement behind him. His nails skidded over Shiro’s hip, his thigh moving to part Shiro’s legs from behind. It was Sendak. He was shifting in his sleep, pressed up against Shiro’s back, hot breath ghosting across Shiro’s nape.

His heart sank.

_I’ll probably never see Earth again._

Blinking away the remnants of his sleep, Shiro craned his neck to look behind him. Sendak wasn’t very attractive, as far as human standards went, but Shiro hadn’t really been concerned with any possible mates until Sendak forced him into the bond.

 _God, what a mess_.

He scrubbed his fingers over his face. At least being with an alien meant he wouldn’t get pregnant.

“You’re awake,” Sendak said, his voice low and gravelly. Shiro tensed.

“I, yeah,” he said lamely. “I think it’s over.” He paused, rubbing awkwardly at his shoulder where the fresh wound of the bondmark lay. It stung. He felt reluctant to be free of Sendak’s grasp, which only made him want to leave even more. “I should probably get back to my cell before someone notices.”

“Not so fast, champion.”

“Stop calling me that. It’s Shiro.”

“Shiro,” Sendak drawled. “When is your next cycle?”

Shiro went still.

“You need me now, as my—what was it?” he paused. “As, yes. My _omega_. Your heats will only be shared with me; unless of course you’d prefer something _else._ ”

Shiro didn’t want to agree, but what choice did he have? It was either with his half-baked bondmate, or…something else. Something worse.

“Okay,” he said miserably. “They happen eight or nine times a year usually. I don’t know what kind of time standards you guys use, but Earth orbits its star once every year, and there are twelve months in a year. So about every month and a half, give or take.”

“Fascinating.” He moved away, heaving his body over the side of the bed. “I’ll make note of it. I was in the middle of important business when you,” he paused for a beat, “distracted me. Once you have cleaned yourself, I will call an escort for you.”

Sendak was covered in just as many fluids as Shiro, but seemed unconcerned, walking confidently over to a large door on the right side of the room.

“The shower will not take long. Hurry up.”

“You’re not leaving?” Shiro asked, feeling slow and stupid in the post-heat and bond stage.

“Of course not.” Sendak scoffed. “Leave you alone in my quarters? You have fifty ticks to shower. Go.”

Shiro didn’t know what a tick was, but he heard it used quite often. He suspected it was some type of time-keeping measure. He hopped out of bed and into the strange shower, staring the various levers in confusion until he heard Sendak sigh loudly from outside the bathroom.

“Must I do everything?” He stormed into the small space, bodily moving Shiro into the corner before he twisted a few levers, inputting a series of buttons. There was a high-pitched sound, and then Shiro felt the air around him begin to vibrate.

“Whoa,” he breathed, watching as the dirt and grime were all but evaporated from his body. He glanced at Sendak, who received a similar treatment. “I know sonic showers exist on Earth, but they’re not common practice. This is amazing. How does this work?”

“We do not have time for your curiosity,” Sendak replied, shutting off the shower once he was clean. “You lack clothing, but once in your cell, tell the guard that I visited and you will have another pair sent to you.”

“So I’m just supposed to wander around naked until then,” Shiro said, incredulous.

Sendak raised a brow. “Correct.”

“Great. Thanks.” Frustration and a multitude of emotions welled inside Shiro. He bit his lip, struggling to contain himself. He’d been strong so far, but it was getting harder to take it all in stride.

How had a mission to collect some evidence off of a planet gone so wrong?

“You are upset,” Sendak observed calmly.

“I’m not,” Shiro croaked, blinking back tears. “I’m angry. I want to be home, back on my planet. Back on Earth.”

“You are Zarkon’s prisoner now. You should get used to it,” he said harshly. “There is no escape.”

“Who _is_ Zarkon? What does he want with us?”

“You will find out soon, I’m sure.” Sendak smirked. “All you need to know is that Zarkon will one day rule the entire universe, including your puny planet. You are lucky to be here. Alive.”

Shiro clenched his fists, anger forming words on his tongue that he didn’t dare speak.

“Just send me back,” he grit out. Sendak took him by the arm and called a nearby guard at the door.

“Take the champion back to his cell,” he ordered, lips lifting into a smirk. “He needs his _rest_.”

The guard saluted, eyes never leaving Sendak. Once he was out of range, though, the guard gave Shiro an obvious once-over, taking in his naked form with barely contained malicious glee.

“Follow me,” he said, on the verge of laughter. Shiro closed his eyes, taking a deep, fortifying breath, and then followed. There were jeers from his fellow prisoners, and more than a few pitying looks. It occurred to him that he probably wasn’t the first person to go through something like this, and it only made him feel worse.

The guard stopped in front of his cell, motioning for the two standing there to open the door. As he stepped inside, they said something about getting him new clothing, but all Shiro could think about was sleeping.

There was something comforting about the quiet of his cell. It was his, and even if he was prisoner, at least this was the one place he could count on being alone.

He crawled to the back of the cell, curled up into a ball, and then let out one quiet, heaving sob, burying his face in his hands.

 

**ONE MONTH AGO**

 

Ever since Shiro had escaped from the ship, he’d felt…off.

His body was in top form, and his mental health was decent for the time being, but healing from an unfinished bond made him feel tired and lethargic. The mark that Sendak had left ached fiercely from time to time.

The bond had been the one thing that he remembered when he came to back on Earth.

Everything had been chaos when he’d arrived. People were touching him and probing at him, talking in ways he hadn’t understood. Images had flashed in front of him; faces, indistinct yet terrifying. He’d screamed and yelled, urged the scientists to listen to him, trying to make them _understand,_ but then something pricked his arm, and everything went quiet.

He was floating.

He felt the vague impressions of hands running over his body. Voices echoing. Something pressed at the back of his mind. Another face; a memory.

Sendak. Who was Sendak?

He tried to reach for him, desperate for help—for anything—but every time he tried he reached out, the images slipped just out of his grasp, watery and unclear. The mark on his throat began to burn.

Later, as his memories slowly came back, Sendak was first. He remembered of all it—every conversation, every word.

The others didn’t know, and he didn’t _want_ them to know. Shiro could tell that Keith suspected something, but never he asked, and Shiro never offered. He was ashamed of what kind of person he’d become; how much he missed Sendak, how he’d do anything to feel his warmth again.

Shiro knew very little about the ins and outs of ayo relationships. Being away from his ‘alpha’ was torture enough, but he hadn’t realized that this would extend to his heats until much later.

He had his first heat _months_ after starting on his journey with Allura and the paladins, which was worrying in itself. A part of him was relieved he didn’t have to deal with it, but the other, larger part was alarmed by the development. He was concerned that it would hit him at an inopportune moment during a mission, or worse.

Thankfully, it happened on the ship.

He was training Hunk—an alpha—when he felt the first signs. For all that Hunk was naturally built, he wasn’t a marksman by any means, and he was hell-bent on using his bayard in a more efficient manner. Shiro, being the leader, offered to help him train.

Scents mixing was bound to happen in close quarters, but that day, it was different. Shiro could smell everyone a mile away—especially Hunk. And as they fought, it became more and more apparent that something else was going on.

It wasn’t until he felt his belly swoop out from underneath him that he realized what was happening.

_Oh, fuck. Idiot._

“Hunk!” he called, lowering his bionic arm. “Sorry, I just realized that I forgot something. I have to go, okay?”

“All right.” Hunk frowned. Shiro was starting to sweat; he just hoped Hunk couldn’t smell him yet. “You do you, Shiro. I’ll tell the others not to wait up.”

“Thanks,” Shiro said, putting on a brave smile. He patted Hunk on the shoulder before he left, keeping up a normal pace until he was just out of the sight. Then he moved into a sprint, making a mad dash for his room as the cramps started to hit.

The following days were torture.

Shiro was desperate, out of his mind. He’d had a steady partner for the months he was on Zarkon’s ship, but now that he was alone, his body worked ten times as hard. Writhing on his bed, he thrust his fingers inside himself, imagining Sendak behind him, his claws scraping delicately across his skin just the way he liked it. His breath against his ear, fur tickling his back.

He hated himself for wanting him, missing him. He tried to put him out of his mind, but thoughts of Sendak eased the ache the slightest bit, and he would take anything— _anything,_ to feel better, to feel full.

Shiro was just glad that the rooms were soundproof; he didn’t want anyone hearing his screams.

* * *

When it was over, he just felt drained. Exhaustion threatened to pull him under, but the paladins were expecting him back in action and he couldn’t let them down.

Shiro took a long, hot shower, trying to scrub away his lingering feelings for Sendak. On his way out of the bathroom, he caught his own reflection in the mirror and winced. There were deep, dark bags under his eyes and his cheeks were surprisingly sunken.

_Congratulations, you look like shit._

“No kidding,” he muttered, heaving a sigh. Back to work.

From then on, he was in a constant state of malcontent, trying to keep the pep in his step while his body ached for his bondmate and he struggled to deal with his trauma.

Shiro could at least comfort himself in the knowledge that the bond would eventually fade, even if he sometimes felt like ripping out his hair.

Or it would have, if the unbelievable hadn’t happened.

Sendak returned.

It happened soon after they blew up the ship’s crystal. The paladins had split up and it was Shiro’s job to find some help. He had Lance thrown over his shoulder and he was exiting the castle when he saw lights coming from the distance. Then the mark started burning, and he knew.

His scent still smelled the same after all this time, and the bondmark on Shiro’s neck throbbed painfully, aching for completion, for his alpha. He set Lance down, and then he was off like a shot, approaching Sendak and his army.

“Stand aside,” Sendak said calmly.

Shiro slapped his left hand over the throbbing mark, gritting his teeth in pain. “No.” Then he activated his weaponized arm, its glow bringing a smile to Sendak’s face. “You’re not getting in, Sendak!”

“Yes, Shiro,” he said, swinging his own bionic arm in front of him, “I am.”

Shiro stared at the attachment. He had always been envious of Sendak’s ability to treat it like an extension of himself. It was something Shiro had struggled with for months, sobbing in his cell and his arm throbbed late into the night.

Sendak had been gentle during those times.

Shiro hated himself for remembering it. He hated that he remembered its girth and weight against his body. Out of all the times they’d fucked, he’d only used it twice. Shiro still had scars.

“It’s too bad you didn’t get the latest upgrade,” Sendak said, lips parting in a ferocious grin. He came at Shiro without mercy, and as they fought, dancing around each other until one of them struck, adrenaline pumping, fueling their battle.

They weren’t evenly matched by any means. Sendak was stronger and more adept, but Shiro was fast, and he knew enough from training with the druids and fighting in the area that he felt fairly confident of his own abilities.

Then he noticed something strange. It was just a moment here, a quick strike there, but sometimes he swore that Sendak was holding back.

His suspicions weren’t confirmed until Sendak’s sharp nails were threatening his throat, inches from the main artery. Shiro mirrored his position, the thrum of his arm and the rapid beat of his heart making him feel dizzy. His foot slipped and he faltered, shifting an inch forward, and Sendak—Sendak _followed_ the movement, saving him from being punctured by his claws.

He could have killed him—he _should_ have, but he didn’t.

Shiro opened his mouth, but before he could offer up his question, Sendak’s second in command dropped the unconscious Lance at his feet.

* * *

A week later found Shiro standing in front of Sendak, only now the tables were turned.

 _He_ was the prisoner and Shiro was the one holding him hostage. Well, technically it was Allura holding him hostage, but Shiro holding him there by proxy.

He’d been staring at the tube containing Sendak for hours, trying to force him to reveal his memories. They should have been extracted by now, but somehow, he was _resisting._

“How did you know where to find us?” Shiro barked, crossing his arms. The memory bank remained unchanged.

He swore. His frustrations were beginning to build, adding onto his plate that was piled high enough already.

Truth be told, he was glad the other paladins weren’t around. If his memories had started displaying themselves, and they looked through Shiro’s time on the Galra ship? Well, they would see how he’d been dealing with his heats all that time.

“What was the first rank you held in Zarkon’s army?” he tried instead, going for a different approach.

Nothing.

“Where did you find the red lion?”

Again, nothing.

“What is Zarkon’s greatest weakness?”

 _What makes you think you could possibly defeat him,_ came Sendak’s disembodied voice. It echoed loudly around him, lacking any distinct source.

“What the—?” Shiro gasped, going rigid with fright. He looked around, trying to find the source, but the hallway was quiet. Shiro pressed his palm to his chest and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. There was nothing to be afraid of; Sendak was still in the tube.

“If…if you were to attack Zarkon, where would you strike?”

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Sendak’s voice sounded, louder than before.

 _Why strike at all,_ he said, the sultry roll of his voice echoing right inside Shiro’s skull, _when you can join him?_

Shiro stumbled backwards, searching frantically now. What the hell was going on? There was nothing, _nothing_ around him that could possibly be causing this.

“H-how is this—how are you—?”

Sendak’s face appeared in Shiro’s mind, the familiar grin threatening to unwind the tenuous thread holding his sanity together.

“How are you doing this?” he shouted, taking a step back. And then another. “You’re supposed to be asleep!”

_How do you think, my omega?_

“I am not your—“ he swallowed. “Stop this. Right now. Tell me what I want to know. How did you find us? How did you find me?”

_I followed the trail._

“What trail,” Shiro hissed. “Stop playing games! You couldn’t possibly have smelled me that far away.”

_It’s more than that, Shiro. You of all people should know this._

“No,” he whispered, horror leaking into his veins and turning them to ice. “No, it’s not—it’s not possible!”

Some claimed that an incomplete bond would try and urge the couple to finish the job. This included heightened senses, sickness, and sometimes in rare cases, the affected party could sense the other from afar, essentially tracking them.

_We’re connected, you and me. Both, part of the Galra Empire. Both bondmates._

“No,” Shiro denied, voice cracking. He shook his head. “No, I’m not like you. I left you, I _escaped._ ”

_You’ve been broken, and reformed. By Zarkon. By me. Just look at your hand. Look at your neck. You can feel the mark, can’t you? Well so can I._

“That’s not me. This is—not me. I’m not your prisoner any longer.”

_They’re the strongest parts of you. Embrace it, Shiro. The others don’t know, do they? They don’t know what you know; haven’t seen what you’ve seen. What we did._

“I—” Saliva filled his mouth. He struggled to swallow.

_Face it, you’ll never beat Zarkon. You’ll never escape that mark on your neck; you’ll never escape me._

There was the sound of laughter, echoing so loud that Shiro clapped his hands over his ears. He couldn’t breathe.

“I’m—I’m not listening to you!”

He’d faced unimaginable torture when the druids saw to him, but the worst part of it had been the arena. God, the things he’d seen; the things he’d _done_. He hadn’t wanted to do those things. He’d had no choice! If he ever wanted to save his friends, he had to survive. He had to—

 _Do you really think a monster like you_ could be a Voltron paladin?” He sounded so close, so close that Shiro could nearly smell him.

“STOP IT!” he screamed, his fist connecting with the glass of the pod.

Then there was silence, unbroken but for the sound of his own breathing, quick and unsteady.

When he looked up, he saw Sendak’s face grinning at him.

Shiro moved on pure instinct alone. He raised his hand, slamming onto the pod’s ‘eject’ panel.

Sendak’s pod slid down and out into space, leaving Shiro panting alone in the hallway. He cradled his arms against his chest and slipped to the floor, remaining in the same position long before the paladins found him.

 

**NOW**

 

Unfortunately for Shiro, aside from the planet that Sendak was on, there wasn’t anywhere for him to go. The nearby asteroids offered some respite, but after a few hours of flying around aimlessly, he realized that he was stuck.

He couldn’t hope to travel at the same speed as Allura’s vessel, and without the lion’s guidance, he couldn’t use a wormhole without risking the chance that he might be sent somewhere even more unfavorable.

“Come on, buddy,” Shiro said, stroking the smooth surface around the controls. “Take me out of here. I know that you can do it. Find Allura. Find Coran. Find _anyone_. Please.”

The lion was silent.

Deep down, Shiro knew that the lion would only assert itself when it thought he was in real need of assistance. Why it didn’t think going to a planet where _Sendak_ was holding ground indicated danger was beyond Shiro’s understanding, but one thing he did understand was that he’d been lucky to find a planet so much like Earth; he knew he couldn’t waste it.

He understood what the lion was telling him, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

He flew around for another few hours, hesitant to send out signals and alert Zarkon’s forces, but also worried that his friends might be trying to reach him. It was when he started to feel his eyes sliding closed that he realized he’d been up for many hours now, preoccupied by dealing with his mistake, trying to rescue Allura, and then dealing with… _this._ He was well and truly exhausted.

“Guess there’s no helping it,” he mumbled, turning back towards the planet.

* * *

Shiro landed his lion not too far from where he’d found Sendak. A cursory glance of the area from above showed that he was still by his pod, crouched over the ground. Steeling his reserve, Shiro stepped away from his lion and approached.

“Sendak!” he called when he was only a few feet away. Sendak stood from where he’d been crouched, looking unbearably smug for someone who’d been stranded on an alien planet without the use of one of his arms.

“So, my omega decided to come back with his tail tucked between his legs. Since you have returned, I presume this is not a routine mission.”

Shiro clenched his fists. “I am not your omega,” he said through gritted teeth, red blurring the edges of his vision.

“You’re still fragile,” Sendak purred, taking a step closer. Shiro took one back. “We were never able to complete the bond due to my nature, not being one of you, but I could feel you. I could feel you _suffer_.”

He was close enough now that Shiro could feel his breath on his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, frozen, trying to deny what he’d been feeling.

“What do you care,” Shiro said waveringly. He put on a strong front, but Sendak’s scent was like a balm, and he’d been _so_ long without an alpha. “You _were_ the cause of my suffering—and anyway. Watch your back. I’d capture you if I could, but until my team gets here, there’s really no point.”

“So you’re separated from your merry band of paladins. How sad.”

“It’s Zarkon’s fault that we got separated in the first place,” he spat.

“Didn’t I already tell you? You have no chance of defeating him.”

“So it _was_ you. Before.” Shiro blinked, relief flooding him. He hadn’t been crazy. He narrowed his eyes. “How did you do that? How did you talk inside my head?”

“I’m not entirely sure myself,” Sendak said, examining the claws on his remaining hand. “When I was in the pod, I could hear your voice, but I could not respond. Once I discovered how, it was remarkably easy to shake the crumbling foundations of your connection to these,” his lips curled, “ _paladins_. You don’t belong with them, Shiro. You would serve well in Zarkon’s army.”

“I’d rather die,” Shiro said sharply. “Why are you still defending him? You’re stranded with one arm on a random planet with no hope of rescue.”

“Where I am has no bearing on Zarkon’s ability to win. And he will win,” Sendak said. “Your separation is proof enough. I wouldn’t be surprised if Zarkon found you and your lion before your friends.”

“My friends _are_ going to find me. They’re looking for me right now.”

“We’re in the Sega quadrant, Shiro. It’s notorious for lost ships never finding their way home. Do you really think they’ll ever find you here?”

“I do,” he said, trying his hardest to believe it. “Look, what you think doesn’t matter. You can’t control me anymore. I’m done with you, and I’m done with our past.”

“Oh, Shiro, was I anything but kind to you? You don’t belong with them; you belong with _me_.”

“I was your prisoner!” Shiro shouted, spreading his arm wide. “I may as well have been your pet! I know how you really feel about me. You abandoned me once you were done with me, and now that _you’ve_ been abandoned, you just want me back so you can have a toy to play with again.”

“Don’t presume how I feel,” Sendak hissed, suddenly inches away from Shiro. He gripped him by his chin, his claws digging into Shiro’s skin. “I made you mine when no one else would. I felt you across the galaxy, needing me, begging for my aid. If you had reached out to me, I would have come in an _instant_.”

“Wh-what? No!” Shiro tore himself out of his grasp. “I don’t need you. You’re Galra; you’re the _enemy_. I only came here to tell you to stay away from me. I don’t want to look at your face while I’m stuck here.”

“You will regret this,” Sendak said, his voice a dark rumble. Shiro felt a shiver work through him at the sound. “You _will_ come back to me.”

“The only thing I regret is thinking that—” _that you cared about me._ He stopped, biting his lip until it ached. “Just leave me alone, Sendak.”

Shiro didn’t wait to hear his response before he started walking away. A part of him expected Sendak to follow him, but when he glanced behind him, he was still standing in the same spot, the expression on his face inscrutable.

Back at his lion, Shiro climbed inside the cockpit and flew it some ways away, returning to the beach he’s originally landed on. He got out of his lion and plopped down onto the sand, pulling his knees against his chest.

 _Why does this have to happen to me? First, I spend a year on an alien ship, then I return to Earth for a split second before_ another _alien ship takes me on a universal quest. And now I’m stranded here. With him._

He was tired. So, so tired. Tired of being taken prisoner, tired of being expected to do great things when all he wanted to do at this point was go home. Things had been so hectic that Shiro didn’t even have time to _think_ about his friends back at the garrison.

“They all think I’m dead,” he mumbled to himself, tracing senseless patterns in the sand with his fingertips.

His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten all day, and it was about to get dark. He’d dropped fruit that he’d picked earlier when he’d run away from Sendak, so he was starving. He needed to get moving if he wanted to survive.

First, he needed to know if it was safe to breathe. Sendak hadn’t been wearing a helmet, so it couldn’t be completely harmful.

He sighed. “There’s one way to find out.”

Praying that his own foolishness wouldn’t send him to an early death, he carefully took off his helmet, holding his breath. When he didn’t spontaneously combust, he dared to exhale. Then inhale.

He was alive—for now. That was better than nothing.

“Okay. Good.” He shoved his helmet under his arm. “Great.”

With that squared away, now he needed to find a clean source of water. There was no telling what kind of bacteria might be on this planet, so he needed to boil it before he started drinking. The river in front of him held what looked like ocean life, but he wasn’t certain.

Shiro stood, glancing at the sky to try and gauge when this sun would set. It was falling fast. He probably had about an hour of daylight left.

Collecting water turned out to be more difficult than he anticipated. He munched on the low hanging fruit as he searched for a spring of some sort, but searching in low light was difficult. He stopped once he couldn’t see more than a foot in front of him anymore, returning to his lion.

Thankfully, with the aid of said lion, he didn’t have a need for shelter.

“I’m trusting you to protect me,” he told the black lion.

It didn’t reply, which Shiro had been expecting. He patted the metal and then settled down in the cockpit, doing his best to sleep.

It wasn’t easy.

Shiro’s rare few hours of sleep were most often troubled by nightmares. A dark grin here, faces at him from above. Screams. Blood, so much blood; none of it his.

That night he managed a few scant hours of shut eye, but lay awake long before the sun rose over the horizon, casting the inside of his lion with morning light.

He sat up, deciding that there was no point in lazing about anymore. He still needed kindling, firewood, and mostly importantly: water.

The lion was in some kind of rest mode, its display lacking the many sensors that normally would decorate the screen. Shiro sat up and pressed a few buttons, trying in vain to read the information being displayed. Most of it in what was presumably Altean.

Coran had been spending his spare time teaching them the language, but its complexities were hard to grasp when they could only spare to review a few hours every couple of days.

Shiro sat back with a sigh. He’d been hoping that he could do some sort of scan of the environment. A robotic entity of this caliber had to have some kind of scanner, right?

Since Shiro had never thought that he’d get lost like this, he didn’t realize how much he’d regret not discovering more about the lion.

_Your connection is weak._

Shiro shoved the thought out of his mind. He tentatively pressed a few more buttons, watching as the displays changed. It seemed like he was getting nowhere when suddenly, there was a low rumbling sound, almost like a…purr. Then, in the middle of the screen, an image popped up on the screen in front of him.

It was a map.

“So you can still hear me,” Shiro said, in awe.

An icon that he couldn’t read appeared in the middle of the screen, blinking. He pressed it.

The line of light pulsed outward from his position; scanning, he realized. After a few seconds, it beeped, and the image changed, small floating triangles pinpointing various positions on the map.

“Are those…water sources?”

He leaned forward. It looked like there were a few scattered nearby, and a couple larger bodies a few miles south of his position. One was near Sendak’s base, but he wasn’t about to go over there.

“Thank you,” he said, patting the arm of his seat. “I’m gonna go and do some more recon, then head for one of those water sources.”

When he stepped out of his lion, he was almost expecting to find Sendak there waiting for him, but the air was silent, the sand undisturbed from the night before.

 _Good,_ he thought, checking the immediate area just to be sure. Once he was certain that he was alone, Shiro picked a few pieces of fruit off of the tree for breakfast and then started heading south.

There were a variety of fauna and flora that Shiro didn’t recognize. The flowers had colors that didn’t exist on any Earth species he’d seen—and some of which he wasn’t entirely sure existed on Earth at all.

As a kid, _this_ was what Shiro had imagined going to other planets would be like. He imagined himself trekking through dangerous jungles, forcing his way through alien lifeforms and saving the galaxy as some sort of space hero. That was the thing about being a kid: you dreamed, and you dreamed big.

He never imagined his dream becoming a reality.

“This is something else,” he muttered, touching the petals of a delicate, white flower. Streaks of deep, dark blue ran along the petal’s edges, and as it curled away from his touch, they formed a spiral.

He kept walking, traveling long after his suit was soaked in sweat, the armor digging into his skin. It was normally breathable and light, but he’d never worn it for this long, or in this kind of environment. He felt like his exposed skin was covered in a thick layer of grime, and he didn’t even _want_ to look at himself in any kind of reflective surface.

He had hopes that he’d find a quiet spot to give himself a good wash.

Eventually, he did find such a spot, and as luck would have it, it looked like the water was fresh, too.

In the middle of a clearing was a crystal clear pool of water. Underneath the surface he could see underwater caverns leading the water away, likely taking them towards other pools scattered throughout the area.

He moved to step forward right as something flashed out of the corner of his eye.

Shiro froze. A _massive_ serpentine creature slithered out from the brush and hovered over the water, gently lapping it into its mouth. It looked docile, but at its thickest point it was as broad as Shiro shoulders. If it was anything like the snakes back at home, he didn’t want to take the chance of being its lunch. He stepped away, looking behind him to make sure he didn’t make too much noise.

Once he was a safe distance away, he took a deep breath.

“Guess that was a bust.” He planted his hands on his hips, looking around. “Either I wait around for that thing to decide to eat me, or I keep going.”

He chose to keep going. However, after seeing the serpent, it seemed that Shiro’s good luck had run out. The further he delved into the jungle, the more wildlife that popped up. Most of it seemed harmless, but more than a quarter of the creatures he came across were big, hulking things that could probably snap Shiro in half in an instant.

He searched for hours, but in the end, he didn’t find a drinkable source of water that wasn’t surrounded by dangerous wildlife. He didn’t have the means to collect it, anyway.

He returned to his spot by the river-beach, and by that point, the sun was already started to dip in the sky.

“Great.” He sighed. Talking to himself didn’t exactly help, but it made him feel slightly less stir-crazy. “Have to find water tomorrow or I’ll be in big trouble. For now, maybe I’ll try boiling some of that river-ocean water, just to see what happens.” He directed his last thought at his lion, who stared above his head impassively.

_Right. First I just need fire. Now how…exactly do I do that?_

He was an experienced pilot and scientist, but he didn’t know much about surviving in the wild. On Earth, it had never really been an issue. Sure, he took a survival class or two back in the day, but he had forgotten nearly all of it. Most of what he recalled was knowledge from the reality shows that came on TV from time to time.

“I need tinder, and a small piece of wood.” He ticked off the ingredients on his fingers. “And some string. A vine, maybe?”

There were no vines available, and he wasn’t certain how it would hold up under pressure anyway. He did tear off some bark from the nearby trees, fashioning himself some makeshift string. He didn’t have a knife, but he _did_ have his robotic arm, courtesy of the Galra Empire. It didn’t generate heat when he used it, but rather energy. He could probably harness it if he had the time, but for now, he was going to try it the old-fashioned way.

First, he broke a thick branch off of one of the trees. Then he activated the weapon, waiting until it was properly heated before he buried his thumb into the wood, carving out a small divot for the other stick he plucked.

“All right!” He smiled down at his creation, oddly proud of the simple achievement. “Now I just need to make fire. Should be easy enough.”

It wasn’t.

Shiro didn’t know if it was humid air, or something that he was lacking in, but after hours of twirling the stick to try and get an ember, he was starting to get tired. He kept at it even after the sun started to set, dusk settling in, casting shadows all over. Shiro was soaked in sweat, his suit sticking to him every time he moved.

Naturally, just as darkness hit, and it looked like smoke was starting to drift from the center of the piece of wood, it started to rain.

“Fuck!” He slammed his fist into the ground, tossing his device aside. “I should be able to do this! I’m a paladin of Voltron, for fuck’s sake!”

The frustration bubbling inside him reached its boiling point. He let out a shout, then stood and approached his lion, storming inside. There he threw himself into his chair and took a deep breath, tapping his foot impatiently against the floor.

It took a while, but eventually his heartbeat slowed, the dull pitter-patter of rain sounding from outside the lion luring him into a sense a calm. He closed his eyes, breath evening out, and before he knew it, he was drifting off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know very little about survival, so at times I suspect you'll have to suspend your disbelief. If you got this far, welcome aboard! Hope you enjoy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sendak's motivation is revealed, and he struggles to come to terms with his own feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More flashbacks. The boys are stubborn. 
> 
> Thank you for your comments! This fic is completely self-indulgent and any mistakes are my own. A huge thank you to scroomsaw for her patience as my beta.

The next morning, there was something waiting outside his lion.

It looked like a thick bamboo shoot that was buried halfway into the sand. On closer inspection, Shiro noticed that there was a rock plugging the open end. He pried it out of the wood and was shocked to find it full of water.

“What the hell,” he whispered, leaning in for a sniff. It didn’t smell dangerous. Shiro frowned and cast his gaze around the beach.

“Who could have—” Then it hit him. “ _ Sendak. _ ”

It couldn’t have just been an act of charity; Sendak didn’t do anything if it didn’t benefit him in some way. It wasn’t completely impossible for it to be poisonous or some sort of sedative, but that would require a) that Sendak found something that was both poisonous and scentless, and b) he wanted to poison Shiro.

Sendak wasn’t the type to do something like that. Shiro had spent months with him, and he liked to make people come to him of their own volition. Preferably on their knees.

Their first and only rut together had been proof of that.

Sendak didn’t refer to it as a ‘rut’, but the original name was a combination of complex syllables that Shiro couldn’t have hoped to understand, and the similarities to an alpha’s rut were nearly identical. Like Shiro’s heats, it worked on a cycle, albeit one that was much longer than Shiro’s. He’d mentioned it before, and Shiro had been curious. 

His tentative expectations had been shattered when their cycles lined up.

They’d been lucky, in a sense. Sendak’s cycle normally didn’t coincide with Shiro’s, but that time, he’d been thick in rut when Shiro fell into heat, and when Sendak was in rut, he was  _ insatiable. _ He fucked Shiro with a new level of brutality, leaving constellations of bruises along his hips and thighs. In those moments he was only satisfied with Shiro on his hands and knees, growling threateningly above him as if challenging an invisible enemy. 

“How does it feel to be underneath me, Shiro?” he’d asked, dragging his fingers harshly down his spine. 

“G-Good,” Shiro gasped. Their pace was harried, Sendak’s movements quick and sharp.

“Louder,” Sendak ordered, pulling Shiro up by his throat. “I want to  _ hear _ you say it.”

“It’s good!” he croaked. Sendak slowed and started to pull out, and Shiro panicked. “No, no, please. Sendak, please, don’t.”

Sendak’s grip tightened, and he curled his huge hand around Shiro’s waist.

“Beg.”

“Wh-what?”

“You’re already at my mercy; this shouldn’t be that hard.”

Impatient heat flared in Shiro’s abdomen, and his mouth was moving before he’d even made the decision.

“Please,” he sobbed, trying to work his ass onto Sendak’s length. “Please fuck me, Sendak. I need you. I  _ need _ you, please. Please, pleas— _ ahh.” _

When he finally did, thrusting his full girth inside Shiro with a wet squelch, claws resting against his throat, Shiro came almost instantly from the resulting rush. For all that Sendak was cruel to him, Shiro  _ liked _ it. He loved having his hands all over his body, claws biting into his skin. He liked when he licked and bit at the bondmark, and he loved how roughly he was handled by Sendak, how possessive he was with him.

Shiro hated that he loved it. He  _ hated _ that Sendak had that kind of power over him. If only he’d realized he was just another one of his  _ toys _ sooner—

He was ripped from the memory when he felt something pinch at his foot. When he looked down at the source, a small crab waved its claw at him. Shiro was evidently in its way.

“Sorry,” he said, chuckling. “Guess I took over your home. Hopefully I won’t be here long.”

He looked at the container in his hands and almost considered dumping it.

Almost.

But it had been over a full day since his last drink, and his throat felt like sandpaper. Praying that it wasn’t some kind of trap, Shiro tipped his head back. Once he started drinking, he couldn’t stop. He drank until he was full and then some, only stopping when there were just a few mouthfuls left at the bottom.

He felt better almost immediately, and stared at the chute of water for a long time, a familiar feeling forcing him to his feet.

* * *

“Sendak!” he shouted, stomping into his campsite.

He was nowhere to be found, but there were clear signs that he’d been there recently. A small, roaring fire stood in the middle of the campsite. Something he couldn’t identify was cooking over the fire, and lying on the ground next to it was another container full of water.

“How the hell does he do all this with one arm?” Shiro knelt by the fire, envious of Sendak’s resilience.

“Ah, Shiro. Welcome.”

Shiro spun around and pointed a savage finger at Sendak.

“Sendak, I thought I told you to leave me alone.” He lifted the chute of wood. “This was you, wasn’t it?”

“And if it was?”

“I said I didn’t need your help!”

“Come now, don’t be unreasonable,” he drawled. “Is it so wrong to offer aid to my omega?”

“For the last time, I’m  _ not _ yours! I know what you’re planning, and I’m not going to fall for it. You want to help me out under the guise of charity, and once I’m under your spell, that’s when you’ll strike.”

“It pleases me that you think so highly of me. And you’re right, to an extent.” Sendak stroked the ragged fur under his chin. He smirked. “This game of independence is amusing, but you will return to me of your own will.”

Shiro scoffed. “I wouldn’t come back to you if you had all the water on this planet.” He lifted the wooden chute, wriggling it in the air. “Thanks for this, I guess, but I’m warning you: don’t come near me again.” 

Sendak said nothing as he left, but he could feel his eyes following him until he was completely out of sight. Back at his camp, Shiro sat down in front of his lion and brushed his arm over his forehead to wipe away the sweat.

Sendak had smelled even better than before, if that were possible. Being in a humid environment like this would have made anyone else stink something fierce, but his natural musk was what had originally attracted Shiro, and it was only amplified in this environment.

_ Forget about Sendak,  _ he told himself firmly, ignoring the niggling voice in the back of his head that kept pointing out  _ he _ was the one approaching him.

After erecting a small overhang to protect it from the rain, Shiro managed to make a small flame that he then amplified using focused energy from his arm. As long as he had embers, he could keep it going for as long as needed.

Now all that was left was getting himself a steady supply of water.

_ You could just take your lion to another location,  _ that same, stubborn voice suggested.

Shiro had considered it, but when he thought about leaving, he just…couldn’t. It was like fighting against his instincts.

Besides that, the area was relatively safe, housing both marine life and vegetation that would supply him indefinitely. All he had to do was avoid Sendak and keep trying to contact the paladins. Easy.

The next morning, there was a pile of fruit sitting innocuously in the middle of the sand.

Shiro threw them all into the ocean.

A part of him ached for the loss of some of the fruit, varieties of which he had not yet seen, but he wasn’t about to let Sendak have his way. In the end, it was still the same game, just with new rules. Sendak would pretend to be interested in him, but after he got bored, he’d toss him aside, and this time, Shiro wasn’t going to play along.

He ripped off his suit and armor and rinsed them in the oceanic water, his movements jerky and aggressive. Once he was satisfied that he’d washed out most of the sweat and grime, he laid them to dry on the branches of a tree near the beach.

“There. Now to get back to my—” When he turned around, Sendak was standing not too far from his lion, examining the features with a curiosity that Shiro found troubling.

“Sendak!” he screeched, bracing his back against the tree.

“I never understood what Zarkon saw in these—these lions,” he said at Shiro’s approach. “A single shot from Zarkon’s battleship would have been more than enough. He should have destroyed them.”

“Why are you here?” Shiro demanded, resting his hands on his hips. That was when he remembered that he was completely naked.

Sendak gave him a slow once-over.

“Don’t,” he said, gritting his teeth to the point of pain. He could feel his cheeks grow warm, but refused to show how badly Sendak had rattled him. The mark, as usual, ached.

“It isn’t as if I haven’t seen it before,” Sendak said, sounding bored. “You’ve changed. There’s more meat on you now.”

Before he could even think, Shiro had his bionic arm against Sendak’s throat, its energized glow bright against his fur.

“I’m serious,” he said. “Get out of here or I’ll make you.”

“How long will you continue to lie to yourself? I can feel how much your body aches for me.”

“That’s the bond talking. It has nothing to do with me.” At Sendak’s laugh, Shiro pressed the tip of his forefinger against his adam’s apple. Sendak’s lips curled.

“You continue to deny it, and yet you remain here, only a few meters from where I reside. Do you truly expect me to believe that you want me gone?” He wrapped his hand around Shiro’s forearm, taking a step forward and forcing him back. Shiro’s eyes widened; Sendak’s skin was  _ burning. _ “You know you need me, Shiro. Admit it and make this easier for the both of us.”

“Sendak.” Shiro tried to pull his arm away, but Sendak only held on tighter, the trembling of his arm the only indication that he felt any pain. “Sendak, stop! You’re hurting yourself.”

“But isn’t that what you want,  _ Shiro?” _ he hissed, forcing Shiro back another step. “This game will end one way or another. You may not see it yourself, but  _ I _ do.” He squeezed harder. Rivulets of blood slowly trailed down his arm. “If you’re so keen on getting rid of me, then  _ do it. _ ”

“I—what?” 

“Show me how much you want me gone, Shiro. If you believe even for a moment that I will allow you to capture me and take me back onto that miserable excuse for a ship, you are sorely mistaken. I would rather perish. So do it; complete your mission.”

Shiro faltered, his jaw going slack. Maybe if he’d never met Sendak a year ago, he could have done it. Maybe if they’d never bonded he might have considered it.

But now, staring into Sendak’s good eye and watching as blood dripped from his elbow, Shiro couldn’t make himself raise his hand against him. He’d done more than enough of it back at the arena.

He yanked his wrist out of Sendak’s grasp and stepped back, a strange sense of calm falling over him. “That’s not—this isn’t what I meant when I said I wanted you gone. I can’t kill you in cold blood. Not when you haven’t done anything to deserve it.”

“You speak pretty words. You have no idea what I have done!” Sendak said, barked a loud laugh. “I have murdered hundreds; thousands! Civilizations  _ burned _ under my control. All of it—all of it I did for Zarkon.”

Shiro shook his head, busying himself with wiping the sand off of his legs. He heard Sendak moving behind him, speaking, his words vicious, intended to incite a reaction.

“Had you not proved a useful distraction, I would have killed you, too. I would have slit your throat and disposed of you without care.”

Shiro glanced behind him, eyes drawn to the blood dripping steadily from Sendak’s palm. The scent was sharp, detectable even from this distance. He pressed his hand against his neck where the bondmark was throbbing.

“Sendak, I’m not going to kill you, and you wouldn’t let me even if I tried. You just want to pick a fight. I already told you; I’m done being your toy.” He said this with conviction, and for the first time, Shiro almost believed it. He started walking over to his clothing. “Look, once the other paladins get here, I won’t say anything about you, okay? Just—stop.”

“You were  _ nothing _ to me,” Sendak continued, ignoring Shiro’s words. His expression was pinched, eyes focused on the a point in the far off distance. Glancing back at him, Shiro got the feeling that Sendak was no longer speaking directly to him. “A plaything for me until I had had my fill.” 

Shiro kept walking. 

“Then I was rid of you, and you—you were supposed to be gone from my mind, yet you—”

Shiro’s footsteps slowed at that, then came to a halt.

“What?” he asked, but by the time he’d turned around, Sendak was gone.

* * *

He didn’t see Sendak for over a week.

Shiro discovered his disappearance only after he visited his camp—purely for investigative reasons. Sendak hadn’t bothered him in days and Shiro would never admit to being worried, but—well. It was just strange.

He snuck up to his camp to check up on him, only to find that it was void of life. The fire had been stamped out, and the supplies removed. All that he left was the heavy containment pod, the broken pieces of shattered glass still scattered around the base.

Shiro should have been glad. On some level, he  _ was _ glad. But now that Sendak had fled to some indeterminable location, the bond burned even hotter than before. That deep, primal part of him that still longed for their connection was desperate for Sendak. 

He wanted him to come back, to return and to fix what he’d originally broken.

Shiro touched the ragged scar on his neck.

Some people described a dying, unfinished, or mutated bond as something like poison. It felt like the body was breaking down, giving rise to phantom feelings that were nigh indescribable.

For days since Sendak’s disappearance it had been throbbing and aching so painfully that he could hardly stand it. At times it was so bad that Shiro almost considered going looking for Sendak, but would quickly cast aside the thought. 

After working so hard to be rid of him, was he really going to give that up?

_ Did you really want him gone? _ a stubborn part of him insisted.

One morning, after boiling some water and drinking his fill, he set out on a quest to explore the layout of the land. He was relieved to have found sources of both food and water, but he was getting antsy staying in one spot, and after sitting around day after day, he needed the exercise. Training on the beach was starting to get tedious and repetitive, particularly with no one to spar with.

“Stay safe, buddy,” he said to his lion, stroking its paw. He didn’t want to take the lion with him, considering how irritating it would be to try and find a decent landing zone, and honestly? He was tired of sitting in that thing. He wanted to stretch his legs and do something useful on his own.

Since he was beginning to get a feel for the layout of the land, Shiro left his armor inside the lion, relying on the skin-tight bodysuit to give him basic coverage. This was mostly because it didn’t get very cold during the day, and he was tired of wearing an extra layer that only served to make him roast in the sunlight. Shiro didn’t have any other weapons aside from what the druids had equipped him with, but he was confident in his abilities and his training.

He wandered until the sun had risen high in the sky, turning back every so often to see if he could still spot his lion crouched proudly in the distance. About midway into the trip, he rediscovered the spring that he’d found on his first day. 

The coast was suspiciously clear.

Shiro knelt in front of the pool, dipping his fingers into the clear water.

There was a sound from behind him. He turned to look, on high alert, but there was nothing there.

Living in a place full of dangerous wildlife had made Shiro reasonably antsy; more than once he’d watched as a large creature passed through his camp, sniffing around but never staying for long. He was grateful for the protection of his lion at times like those, and it was comforting to know that he could escape any time he needed. 

Shiro’s attention returned to the water. He crouched, peering into the depths. He was curious to know if this would work well as a place to bathe. The source of water he was currently using wasn’t large enough to encase his entire body, so he’d been relying on a makeshift sponge bath for the time being.

This pool certain didn’t seem dangerous. There were only a few small fish living in the water, as far as he could see. They didn’t look concerning, but there was the potential for something bigger to be lurking in there, and that’s what Shiro was worried about. It would be a bad day for Shiro if some kind of piranha came up and bit him while he was taking a bath.

As he brought his fingers closer to the water, he noticed ripples making their way over to him from across the pond.

He lifted his head, and his eyes widened.

Across the water there was a creature, its body partially hidden in shadow. Shaped like a large feline, thick, dark fur covered the length of its body. It’s facial structure was distinctly avian, with a beak jutting from its muzzle. Two tails protruded from its hindquarters, one of which was dipping into the water, swirling lazily.

Shiro hadn’t even noticed its approach. He moved an inch to his left, and it opened its beak and let out an ungodly screech.

“It’s—it’s okay,” he whispered. Its eyes followed him as he moved. His heart was pounding, and he could feel sweat beading down his neck. “I’m not going to hurt you. Just stay…” he brought his arms to his side, “…still.”

Should he run? Dive into the water? If he moved noisily, it was possible he might scare it away, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to incite its anger. From the way that it extended its claws threateningly, he doubted this creature was friendly.

He stood slowly, keeping his hands cinched to his side until he was standing fully upright. The creature let out another screech and moved towards Shiro’s right. His eyes flickered to his left, contemplating his escape. 

The creature’s head bobbed. 

Shiro took a step backwards.

The creature lowered itself, burying its claws into the soft earth, and then lunged.

Shiro was prepared for an attack; he lifted his arm, activating the weapon and swinging it at the creature’s beak. The impact made him stumble, but the creature released him almost immediately, yowling in pain.

A growl sounded to his left. Shiro pivoted, eyes skating across the jungle landscape in front of him for any sign of danger.

He saw the eyes first. A vivid yellow, the pupils narrowed into slits. Then the rest of the creature slid out of the shadows and into view, crouching low, emitting a harsh, rumbling sound. It was a mirror image of the creature that was cowering behind him. Even as its companion howled, it never took its eyes off of Shiro.

Sensing imminent danger, Shiro was about to attempt his escape when he heard another beast’s rumble behind him. He spun around and balked at the sight. There were two more creatures. They blocked his path, carefully circling him _. _

_ Crap. _

“All right, you wanna go?” he raised his arm and shifted back towards the pond, a quick plan of action forming in his head. He was at a disadvantage in unfamiliar territory, but he was resourceful. Being outnumbered didn’t mean he still couldn’t come out of this unscathed.

The creature to his right lifted its head, chirping loudly just before Shiro felt something sharp bury itself into his side.

_ When did—? _

He shouted as it clamped down; warm blood gushed from where it had punctured his skin, making his fingers slip messily along its smooth beak. 

Another body barreled into him and bit into his leg. 

Pain exploded along his calf, radiated up into his hip. He brought his hand down on the back of the creature’s neck that was biting into his abdomen, relieved when it screeched and shot away from him. Then he reached down and dug his fingers into the other’s shoulder. It held on for a few, painful seconds, but eventually released him, bounding away.

Shiro stumbled away from the pool of water, pressing his hand over the wound on his side. The pain was severe, but he hardly felt it. Adrenaline was pumping, holding the worst of it at bay. 

He tried to step forward to attack, but his legs suddenly decided to disobey, halted after one step by a strange, cold numbness. It started around his waist and traveled up into his chest. From there, it spread to his arms and fingertips. He felt himself starting to sway.

Shiro swore, bracing his hands awkwardly against a nearby tree. There was an impact on his back, claws skittered across his skin, struggling to tear through the bodysuit and find a hold. 

He fell forward onto his knees, his vision swimming, black spots appearing in front of his eyes. It was getting difficult for him to stay conscious.

_ Stupid, so stupid. I should have never left my armor behind. I should have… _

One blink and he was suddenly on the ground, his cheek pressed against something sharp. His entire body felt cold and numb, his eyelids weighing heavy as lead. He tried to sit up, but his body would no longer cooperate.

In the distance he heard a faint voice. Something about it was familiar. He struggled to focus.

_ Shiro.  _

A voice sounded in his head. It was quiet, too quiet for him to hear. 

_ Shiro! _

_ Is that…? _

_ “Shiro!” _

He managed to lift himself an inch off the ground before everything went dark.

* * *

Shiro was floating, his body suspended. His head was swimming, thoughts trying to formulate before slipping away, uncertain and unclear. He felt numb, a sharp, tingling sensation spreading throughout his body like wildfire. He didn’t like it. Shiro longed to scratch, to dig his fingers into his flesh and yank out the peculiar sensation, but moving seemed an impossible feat.

Then there was fire. His body  _ burned _ . The fire surged inside of him, crawled through his stomach and making its way up his throat.

_ Druids it’s the druids _

_ The arena—what happened to me this time _

_ I don’t want this please _

_ I can’t take this _

_ please _

Shiro screamed, struggling against hands that held him down, but he was weak, and grew tired quickly. Pain flared inside him; a pain so vivid and bright that he could no longer even find the strength to open his mouth. It felt like his head was filled with fire and cotton.

Exhaustion radiated from every part of his being, tugging inexorably at his consciousness until he fell back into sleep.

* * *

He was roused from slumber when he felt fingers prying at his lips, urging his mouth open. Shiro tried to speak, but his brain felt like it was filled with molasses, his thoughts thick and muddy.

Water that was cool and sweet slid past his lips and chin, moistening his dry throat. Shiro tipped his head up, vying for more, but something held him firmly in place. 

He fell back with a whine.

Someone whispered something unintelligible. Fingers—no,  _ claws _ —grazed his cheeks. A whiff of something familiar made Shiro cock his head, brushing his nose against soft fur. When he opened his eyes, the images were blurry, but he thought he saw flashes of purple and bright, vivid gold.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. 

They moved away, and Shiro’s eyes slipped closed.

* * *

He cracked an eye open, and winced when a beam of light crossed over his eyelid. Shiro blinked rapidly, tilting his head away from the sunlight. He tried to sit up, but the movement caused bolts of pain to shoot up his side. He grunted, fingers scrabbling to find the source.

Images flashed in the back of his head, bits and pieces of his memories coalescing to form vague impressions of the event. He remembered the creatures, being bitten and then—

His hands shot to his side. 

The skin was tender and painful to the touch, but he wasn’t bleeding. Shiro lifted his head, brow furrowed. Closer inspection revealed that there was some sort of paste spread across the length of his side that was sticky to the touch. He glanced up to find that he was underneath a canopy of tree at the edge of a forest, the sounds of the ocean just barely perceptible. Above him gigantic green leaves acted as a barrier between him and most of the harsh sunlight.

When he tried to sit up a second time, his vision swam and spun, nausea hitting him like a punch in the gut.

“Ugh,” he groaned, covering his face with his hands. “What the hell happened?”

Footsteps sounding from behind him. Shiro craned his neck, and what he saw made his heart jump.

Sendak was just coming into view, his arm clutched around a long container of water. There was some sort of makeshift cloth bag that he had wrapped around his wrist, swinging heavily with every step. When he noticed Shiro’s eyes on him, he slowly came to a stop.

“Shiro,” he said in greeting. “I see you’ve recovered from the paralysis.”

“Paralysis? What? I—” Shiro’s mouth moved soundlessly for a few seconds. So he hadn’t imagined it. The person taking care of him had been Sendak. “You saved me. Why?”

Sendak didn’t reply, instead walking around him to crouch by the ground. He set the bag down and reached for three pieces of fruit, placing them near Shiro before he dumped the rest in a container of some sort. He made quick work of covering his spoils.

Shiro’s curiosity mounted. If Sendak had saved him, how did he fend off all of those weird creatures? Did he carry him all the way to his camp? What was this about paralysis?

He opened his mouth, only to have Sendak hold up a hand.

“Before you begin sputtering nonsense, I did not follow you. I only happened to witness your extreme stupidity. I was searching for a source of food when I stumbled upon you making a truly idiotic decision.”

“Idiotic?” Shiro parroted dumbly.

“Surely you noticed that the place where you were wandering carelessly with no protection was the territory of that pack of beasts.”

There was a note of hostility in Sendak’s tone. If Shiro didn’t know better, he’d say that he sounded concerned.

“Uh, no, I actually didn’t know about that.”

“Naturally.”

“Hold on.” Shiro narrowed his eyes. “First of all, how did you defend yourself if you didn’t have a weapon? How was I supposed to know it was dangerous?”

Sendak shot him a careful look, cocking his head to concede his point.

“I suppose your pitiful human senses could not compare to my own.” He turned and held out the water chute to Shiro, who accepted it and began to drink greedily. The water tasted sweet, and made his tongue tingle.

“You wandered onto their territory,” Sendak continued. “More than once, I’m certain, and they decided to attack you as a herd. I had a weapon when I came upon you; one that I actually know how to use.” He lifted a knife and looked at Shiro, his gaze severe. “Why were you not clothed in your armor?”

“I...decided not to take it.” He’d just been sore, tired and he’d wanted a break. He hadn’t been thinking clearly, lured into a false sense of security from his leisurely time on the planet.

Shiro tipped his head back and drained the last of the water, handing it back to Sendak, who offered him a disdainful glare. “It wasn’t like I was  _ trying _ to get hurt.”

“Clearly not,” Sendak snarled. “You shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Explain why you were so far from your ship.”

Shiro pursed his lips. The urge to say ‘it’s none of your business’ was strong, but giving that Sendak had saved his life, he supposed he owed him that much.

“I was just traveling. Trying to find something interesting.” Feeling eyes on him, Shiro shrugged his shoulders. “Look, why do you even care? You disappeared for a week; it’s not like you were around to find out.”

He regretted his words as soon as they’d left his mouth. He sounded bitter even to his own ears.

Sendak said nothing at that, watching him silently.

“Thanks for saving me,” Shiro added after a long stretch of silence. “I would’ve been a goner back there.”

Sendak huffed. 

“What were  _ you _ doing around there?” Shiro blurted. “You said that it was that bird-thing’s territory.”

“As I said, gathering resources. I tracked the length of their territory and determined the most likely place the larger game would appear. That water hole is inhabited mainly by those feline creatures.”

“So…you were hunting.”

“Correct.” Sendak bared his teeth at him. “You were lucky I was in the area. If I hadn’t found you, the paralysis would have lead to your end.”

“I remember feeling numb.” Shiro pressed his palm against his side. “Something in their saliva must activate a type of fast-acting paralysis.”

“Their claws are the source of the poison,” Sendak corrected. “It’s like a drug; not only does it paralyze you, but it affects your mind. Slows you down, making you an easier for the taking.”

Shiro shivered. “So it wore off?”

“You would still be paralyzed if not for the fact a species of flora that act as an antidote to the paralysis. I discovered it some time ago when I was injured by those beasts.”

“Of course you did,” Shiro mumbled under his breath. Then, louder: “what about my wounds? What is this stuff? You did all this,” he gestured to himself, “with one arm?”

“I assure you that one limb does not slow me down in the least. I’m perfectly capable,” Sendak said, his voice a low growl. “It is the paste made from a plant that has healing qualities. I was unable to close your wounds with a stitch, but this served my purposes well enough.”

Shiro shuddered, realizing with a sudden clarity that he could smell Sendak all over himself. He recalled the brush of his claws across his lips and felt his cheeks color.

“Yeah, of course,” he stammered, turning away before Sendak could take notice. “Didn’t mean to imply that you couldn’t. Anyway, thanks for saving me and not—“ At Sendak’s heavy stare, he felt his cheeks darken. “I don’t know, not doing anything.”

“You think I am some sort of beast that would prey on a wounded person.”

“I’m not—look, can you seriously blame me? Sendak, you’re part of the Galra Empire! You’re not one of the good guys.”

“I am decent enough not to kill you while you’re still recovering.”

He sounded angry. Shiro was too tired to try and stumble his way through an apology and laid back against the pile of leaves, letting his breath out slowly. Now that whatever draught Sendak had given him had started to fade, the pain was coming back.

“Sleep,” Sendak said, quieter now. “You must recover if you are to return to your health and your people.”

Shiro felt more questions rise at that, but he was too tired to inquire further. He nodded, eyelids heavy, and let the warm, evening sunlight lure him into a doze.

He slept until nightfall, waking up to the scent of food.

Sitting up gingerly, Shiro braced his hand over his wound. The paste was completely opaque, but the exposed flesh around the wound was ugly and red. It would probably scar.

He twisted his leg to get a peek at the other wound he remembered receiving. His skin had been sliced, deep gashes marking where the creatures had bitten him.

Shiro looked up and saw Sendak standing by the fire, facing away from him. He was prodding at something hissing over the open flame. 

Food. Shiro’s mouth watered.

“Hungry?” Sendak asked, tilting his head at Shiro. He lifted a piece of meat that he had shoved onto a stick and walked over, offering it to him. The smell drifted over to him and Shiro found himself reaching over before he could help himself.

He ate like a man starving while Sendak watched him silently. By the time that he had finished one haunch of meat, Sendak was offering him a second, his eyes glinting with barely contained pleasure.

“Thanks,” Shiro said warily, eating with more caution. As if sensing his mistrust, Sendak’s lips turned down and he turned away to refill Shiro’s draught of water.

“Was is that stuff?” Shiro asked.

“A small plant that helps numb pain. It does not last very long, but it is effective.”

“Huh.” Shiro watched him crush the berries in one hand and dump them into the boiling water. He’d been here probably over two months, and he’d already discovered so much. 

Shiro didn’t know much about Sendak’s life before being Zarkon’s pawn, but if he had to guess, Shiro would say that his childhood couldn’t have been a good one.

Not that it excused any of his behavior. Not in the  _ least _ . 

Shiro reminded himself of this as Sendak finished with the water and handed it to him, waiting for him to drink his fill before he took a sip himself.

“Isn’t it bad to drink that if you aren’t in pain?” Shiro asked.

“It has little effect on me, and I heal much faster than your kind.” He set down the water and leaned in for a closer look at Shiro’s wound. There were spots of blood, but apparently deciding that it wasn’t worth fretting needlessly, he returned to the fire to tend to the hunk of meat.

Shiro settled back against the ground, trying to decide if it was worth possibly exacerbating his wounds to get up and pee.

Eventually, his bladder won out. He carefully propped himself up and used the bathroom some ways away.

When he returned, Sendak was hunched over the fire, ripping palm-sized bites of meat off the spit. His muscles rippled under the firelight, and when Shiro inhaled, he was able to detect a hint of Sendak’s natural musk. He averted his gaze, signaling his arrival with a cough.

“You shouldn’t be moving,” Sendak grunted, pointing to the makeshift bed. “You will only make it worse.”

Shiro laid himself back down on the ground carefully, Sendak’s eyes following him like a hawk. Once he was settled, Sendak continued to eat, casting his gaze at Shiro every so often.

Shiro, for his part, was exhausted. Just moving around had taken up all of his energy, and his side and leg felt like they were on fire. Thankfully, the results of the drink were quickly taking effect, making the world around him soft and blurred.

He closed his eyes.

* * *

Without much choice, Shiro spent the next few days lying in bed, waiting for Sendak to fetch him food and water. As much as he had initially rejected Sendak’s help, now it would have been impossible to survive without it.

Although he was grateful, two feelings raged war inside him. His instincts were constantly screaming at him to accept Sendak, while his brain reminded him that the two of them were sworn enemies, and their relationship hadn’t unfolded on the best of terms.

He wouldn’t have felt as torn as he did if Sendak wasn’t strangely….nice.

Aside from ordering Shiro around and making sure that his wounds were clean and holding together, he didn’t even mention anything about their bond. More often than not, he left Shiro alone. Compared to how he’d been before, he was downright unsociable.

“Hey,” Shiro said, catching his attention as he was leaving to gather more water. Sendak stared at him, and Shiro looked down at the ground. “I’m probably gonna regret this, but I have to ask. All this time you’ve been helping me you could have taken my lion and left the planet. So why haven’t you?”

Sendak stared at him, his expression suspiciously blank.

“That would require me to leave you to your death.”

“Yeah, but couldn’t you just…go home and bring a ship?” Shiro had no idea why he was playing the devil’s advocate. Maybe it was the painkillers affecting him, or the boredom of sitting in the same spot for days on end. “You could just make me a prisoner again.”

“You are a fool if you believe that I can simply waltz onto Zarkon’s ship and request my former position. I am an ex-Galra commander now; I’m as good as dead.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. You were one of his most loyal soldiers!”  

“Zarkon does not favor the weak,” Sendak said, placing his hand on his hip. “Unlike you and your ilk, the weak must be weeded out. Only the strong survive: that is Zarkon’s philosophy.”

“But that—that doesn’t make any sense. Just because someone is weak doesn’t mean they can’t be made strong. I mean, even Zarkon was a baby at one point.”

The thought was more than a little horrifying. Shiro tried to imagine a baby Zarkon and failed miserably. Sendak’s lips quirked.

“A good soldier is a strong, obedient soldier. The size of Zarkon’s armies are numerous; he does not have time to train failed soldiers to function at a mediocre level. Those who fail their mission are regarded as filth to be tossed out. After failing to capture Voltron the first time, I was allowed pardon due to my rank, but now, even if I brought him all of Voltron, he would probably kill me.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Shiro asked, “How can you follow someone who treats his followers like they’re nothing?”

“It’s simple: Zarkon  _ will _ control the universe, and those who remain a part of his crew will be treated like kings. At the very least, they will not perish or work as a common slave.”

“How does he expect to control an entire universe? Not everyone is going to be willing to follow a guy who rules on fear.”

“Fear motivates even the most stubborn. You know this all too well. You were lucky, in that sense. Had it not been for me and had you spent any more time on the Galra ship, you would have been turned into one of their,” his lips curled, and he spat out the word, “ _ pets.” _

“Wait, what?” Shiro’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“The druids, of course.” Sendak examined his claws, feigning sudden nonchalance. “They love to make prisoners their playthings.”

“You said ‘had it not been for me’. What do mean if it hadn’t been for you?”

Sendak stared at him unflinchingly. “I fail to see how that is relevant.”

“You make it sound like you helped me.”

“It was inevitable that you would want to return home,” Sendak said cryptically.

“Sendak, what aren’t you telling me?”

Sendak was silent.

“Sendak.”

“You know as well as I do, Shiro. They had you in the palm of their hands,” he hissed. “When you came to me, a quivering mess after they reinstated your arm, I knew it was only a matter of time until they broke you.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You think you are impenetrable to their ways. You hold the false belief that you would have resisted their control— _ Zarkon’s _ control.” He curled his fingers into a fist and stared at it. “You would have soon come to understand just why those who follow Zarkon do if you’d stayed, if I hadn’t let you out.”

Shiro felt his blood run cold. “Let me…out? No, that’s—no. My memories may be sketchy, but I remember that I escaped on my own.”

“Do you really believe that there were no guards at the time of your escape? That an escape pod was conveniently ready for you to use? You are not that much of a fool.”

“No!” Shiro shouted, lurching forward. He grabbed at his wound. It ached almost as badly as the bondmark. The memories from his escape were fuzzy at best, but he _did_ remember an escape pod. Something else, not quite far off but unreachable at the moment. “No, I escaped by myself. You didn’t—you didn’t want me anymore. You can’t trick me, Sendak.”

Shiro’s head was spinning. It had taken some time, but he’d remembered how it had all ended. Funnily enough, that was what spurred on his attempt to escape.  

 

**THEN**

 

Shiro eventually learned that Sendak didn’t live on the ship, like he’d originally assumed.

The ship surrounded by Zarkon’s main forces was huge, and although Shiro didn’t know what the outside looked like, glimpses of rotating bands and thousands of ships coming and going had given him a pretty good idea of the size. As Sendak claimed, Zarkon’s army was enormous; terrifyingly so.

He was more surprised to find out that Sendak didn’t live on the main fortress as Shiro had assumed. Every few weeks—assuming Shiro could trust his sense of time—Sendak would stop by the station and squeeze in a few minutes with Shiro. They were never very heartfelt, and Sendak didn’t have anything particularly  _ nice _ to say, but it beat sitting around his cell waiting to be played with by the druids.

“How is your arm?” Sendak asked. He nodded his head at Shiro’s fingers, which were clutched tightly around his wrist.

The druids had installed it about six months into his capture. Because it was so well connected, he didn’t deal with phantom pain, but his body wasn’t used to the sensitivity and the power that it offered him just yet. As if on cue, pain shot through his arm and he jerked, letting out a quiet hiss.

“Fine,” he grit out. Sendak chuckled.

“You are perhaps the first human to be graced with such technology. You should consider yourself lucky; it is a valuable weapon.”

“Valuable my ass,” Shiro grumbled.

Sendak continued to speak with him for a few minutes, succeeding in distracting Shiro from the pain of his new limb for that short time span. Once he was gone, though, Shiro felt the loss of his company all too keenly.

When he went into heat, Sendak always managed to return from whatever errands he was running, dock his ship, and take Shiro to bed for a day or two. 

Shiro longed for those moments when the nightmare was set aside and he could enjoy himself for a few hours. Sendak was garish, unkind, and quick to fall to anger, but anything was better than being trapped inside that god-awful cell.

And for all his faults, Shiro was actually starting to like him.

His understanding when it came to Sendak’s habits as both a member of the Galra Empire and his alpha started to grow, and with it, so did Shiro’s affection. He started to realize that underneath it all, Sendak wasn’t  _ completely _ horrible. If he’d just stop working for Zarkon and realize that what he was doing was wrong, then maybe they could…

Well. Everything changed not long after their last heat together.

Sendak liked a lot of things, and one thing in particular was his habit of basking in the affectionate afterglow after having sex. Normally, he’d have Shiro splayed along his body, encased in his huge, muscled arms. He’d bury his face in Shiro’s neck and lick at the mark, caressing his body with warm, large hands. Shiro hadn’t minded it; in fact, like many things they did, he enjoyed it.

That time, however, he’d been strangely standoffish. Shiro tried to lay a hand on his shoulder and ask what was wrong, but Sendak abruptly got out of bed, his expression complex in a way that Shiro didn’t understand.

“Sendak?” he prompted, sitting up.

“Shiro, what have the druids been doing with you?”

The question was sudden, and Shiro involuntarily looked down at himself.

“Nothing lately. They’ve been forcing me through some kind of mind-training, but otherwise…nothing.”

“Mind…training?” He looked at Shiro. “Explain.”

“It’s—it’s hard to explain. They get into my head and they—say things.” He cradled his arms against his chest, recalling the awful feeling clearly. “It’s not pleasant.”

“No,” Sendak replied strangely, “I imagine it isn’t. Once your heat is over, I can’t stay to chat this time.”

“Oh.” There was a sinking feeling in Shiro’s chest, but he ignored it. “When will you be back?”

“That is none of your concern,” Sendak barked. Shiro recoiled, eyes going wide.

“Sorry, I was just curious.”

Sendak let out a growl and turned to Shiro, grabbing him by the shoulder.

“I can smell your need,” he said. “turn around.”

After his heat, Sendak left, just as he’d promised. Shiro didn’t suspect that anything was wrong until much, much later, when Sendak didn’t show up to ‘check up’ on his prisoner shortly before his heat.

In fact, he stopped showing up at all.

Confused and more than a little worried, Shiro was left alone and bereft for months, suffering through the trials of his capture alone. It wasn’t until he was coming back from another intense session from the druids that he finally saw him.

They’d been working even harder on his body, forcing him through rigorous exercises; all the while their voices echoed in his mind, trying to break him from inside out. One druid in particular seemed to take an unhealthy interest in his demise. She would often take him to the training rooms alone and put him through hell.

Shiro was in the middle of stumbling through the hallway, flanked on either side by a guard when he spotted a familiar profile out of the corner of his eye.

“Sendak!” was out before he could stop himself. He blamed it on a combination of fatigue and stress that made him tug recklessly against his restraints, reaching out for his alpha.

Sendak turned his head, and the expression on his face made Shiro’s breath catch in his throat.

He looked at Shiro the same way that you might look at a small insect. His lips were curled back, an expression of vague disgust on his face. Then he turned to the guard on Shiro’s left and said, “Why are you standing around? Get this prisoner out of my sight!”

“Sendak!” Shiro called, twisting away from their hold. “Sendak, wait!”

“Do not speak to your superior, mongrel,” he growled, looking straight ahead. He started walking.

“Why—I don’t understand—”

“What,” Sendak purred, low and dark. “Did you think you were special? You are one of many and you have lived out your usefulness.”

Shiro reeled like he’d been struck.

“You don’t mean that,” he whispered.

Sendak kept walking.

“Sendak!” Shiro tried, calling his name long after he could no longer be seen. He struggled against his captors, but he was weak, both mind and body fragile from what he’d just undergone.

He was thrown carelessly into his cell. His head was reeling, confusion mixing with the psychological effects of the druid’s torture.

He slid against the floor and crawled to the back of the cell, burying his face between his knees.

_ Deep breaths. Come on, Shiro. Think about Mr. Holt. Think about Matt. _

He realized with a start he hadn’t thought about Matt in weeks. And not seriously in months. God, he’d been so preoccupied by Sendak and their routine that he’d nearly forgotten why he’d been dragged here.

He leaned back against the wall, blinking up at the dark ceiling. He was still in shock from what had just occurred. A cacophony of emotions were roiling inside of him. Betrayal, anger, hatred, sadness, longing. He had known that his relationship with Sendak hadn’t been a healthy one, but he’d thought—

Bile rose in the back of his throat. He bit his lip.

How long had it been since he’d thought of home? Since he’d thought about his friends, or his family? Homesickness that he’d been pushing aside for the better part of the year surged inside of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, the sound of his harsh breaths echoing loudly in his cell. 

Sendak had been his life here. He’d been his  _ everything _ , and now he was gone.

He realized for the first time in a long while he was totally and completely alone.

 

**NOW**

 

“No,” Shiro whispered, shaking his head as he was ripped from the memory. “Why would you help me after you abandoned me?”

“Abandoned?” Sendak’s lips curled up. “You act as though we had a relationship, Shiro.”

“We did!” Shiro roared. “You cared! At least, I thought you did. You—the things you said, that was,” he paused, recalling the warmth in Sendak’s gaze, “I know it was more to you than a convenient relationship.”

“More, you say,” Sendak mocked. “I merely tired of seeing the druids play with what was mine. I had planned to retrieve you at a later date, but…well, as you can see, it didn’t quite work out, now did it?”

“You’re lying,” Shiro said. His voice cracked.

“Am I?” Sendak replied, mockingly.

Their positions were now reversed, and Shiro wasn’t entirely sure why he was trying so hard to convince himself that Sendak hadn’t had a hand in helping him. Maybe then he would feel like he’d actually accomplished; maybe it would be easier to forget how betrayed he’d felt; maybe he could finally move on.

Because Shiro hadn’t moved on. Even now, facing Sendak’s callous nature head on, Shiro still cared about him.

He’d denied how he’d felt for months after regaining his memories, brushing aside latent feelings and affection for Sendak, pretending that they were a side-effect of the bond. In truth, a part of Shiro had been left behind when he escaped the ship. That part that longed for the moments when Sendak had treated him like he mattered.

The memory of their first kiss flitted into his mind. It had been surprisingly sweet.

 

**THEN**

 

Sendak would nuzzle, lick, and bite, but he’d never made any attempts to kiss Shiro. It wasn’t until he planted his lips over Sendak’s in a drunken, heat-induced haze that the topic was breached. 

It had been sloppy and ill-timed, and his tongue nearly caught on Sendak’s tooth as he pulled away, mouth open and startled.

“What are you doing?” Sendak had asked, pressing his finger to his lips.

“It’s a kiss,” Shiro replied, sliding his thumbs along Sendak’s soft, furry cheeks. “Don’t your people kiss each other?”

“I have no idea what this ‘kiss’ is. Speak plainly.”

“It’s nice,” Shiro said, sliding closer. He cupped Sendak’s cheeks, and ignoring his ungainly scowl, pressed their lips together sweetly. His lips were warm, and rougher than Shiro’s. 

Sendak didn’t appear to find it any more pleasant than the last encounter, but other than a disgruntled huff, he did not deny Shiro his pleasure.

He continued to try and coax a reaction out of Sendak, sliding their mouths together. Sendak’s hand was hot against his hip, claws scraping lightly over his skin in a silent threat.

He himself wasn’t even sure why it mattered so much that he get Sendak to kiss him back. It wasn’t really the kissing that he was after; it was the familiarity. It was something from Earth, something he could indulge in that wasn’t so…alien.

His heart leapt when he felt Sendak’s lips part, his breath ghostly hotly over his lips. 

“Interesting,” he purred, moving his palm to the back of Shiro’s head.

Sendak was a quick study. Before long, he discovered that not only could he kiss Shiro, but he could  _ devour _ him. He returned Shiro’s kisses with more teeth than tongue; he bit at his lips, cutting into the soft flesh until it gave way to fresh blood.

It was at that point that Shiro yanked his head away with a startled cry. Sendak followed suit, frowning at the blood dripping down his chin.

“Humans are far too fragile,” he observed, stroking his thumb across Shiro’s lower lip. The smear of blood shone bright against his skin.

“Only the ones that get mauled by their partners,” Shiro shot back. “You’re not supposed to bite.”

“You do not order me around,” Sendak said lowly, but it lacked his usual heat. He pressed a kiss onto Shiro’s lips, dragging his tongue along the inside of his mouth, over the wounds.

Shiro laughed, pushing at Sendak’s chest with his hands. “Stop it. You shouldn’t lick it.”

“Shouldn’t I?” Sendak rasped, baring his teeth. He poked at his lip with his thumb, exposing the bleeding flesh. “Perhaps I  _ should _ be careful with you from now on.”

It was as good of an apology as Shiro would ever get. Truth be told, he didn’t know if Sendak even knew the  _ meaning _ of the word apology, but it was more than he offered anyone else. 

When he was with Shiro, he was different. He’d  _ been _ different.

 

**NOW**

 

Maybe that had been his problem all along. Things became different after they'd met, and the progression of their relationship had ultimately changed the way that Sendak—and Shiro—interacted with each other and those around them.

He leveled Sendak with a cold stare, recalling the former tenderness with which he’d looked at him.

“You know what I think?” Shiro said suddenly. “I think you’re scared.”

_ “Scared? _ ” Sendak sneered. “I fear nothing.”

“Oh, but I think you do.” Shiro pointed a finger at him. “I think I get it now. You didn’t want to really get rid of me; you let me go because you were afraid me. Not just me, but us.” 

He thought of heat, and warm lips on his throat, a gentle caress. The pieces that had been missing were now coming together, painting a picture that Shiro had been too blind to see.

“You talk nonsense,” Sendak growled, agitated. His fist was tight by his side. “You are but a worm; one of many that is moments from being squashed under my boot.”

“You threw me aside because you were afraid,” Shiro continued. “You  _ care  _ about me.”

“I detest you,” Sendak spat.

“Then why did you help me, Sendak? Explain that to me. Why did you all but  _ beg _ me to come back to you if you care so little? You’ve been chasing me all this time, but now  _ you’re _ the one running away.”

“The Galra do not run. I am—“ He chewed on his lower lip, rage making his lips curl back. “You are nothing! You weaseled your way into my mind and I could not, I,” Sendak took a step back. He looked panicked, the muscles in his fate twitching. “Zarkon is…I…”

“Sendak?”

“No!” Suddenly Sendak’s gaze went into focus, zeroing in on Shiro. “You.  _ You.  _ I won’t be made a fool.” Then he was in front of Shiro, and his claws were digging into his shoulder. Pain, hot as knives made Shiro cry out. He could feel blood seeping out from where Sendak’s claws sank into his skin.

“No, I am—” Sendak pressed his fist against his chest. “I am a soldier of the Galra Empire. I am a soldier.  _ Zarkon’s _ soldier.”

“Sendak,” Shiro said, clutching his bleeding shoulder. “Sendak!”

His breath was coming out hot and fast, chest heaving with the effort of taking his next breath.

“Sendak.” Shiro was helpless, all his training vanishing out the window in the face of Sendak’s sudden vulnerability. He’d never seen him like this; he was trembling, looking at Shiro with a mixture of hatred and—something else.

Sendak fell to his knees, fingers scraping the ground to steady his balance. He laughed, but it was clear that he found no humor in it; it rumbled up from deep into his chest, rising in volume until his shoulders quivered from the strength of his mirth.

Shiro winced at the unpleasant sound.

When his laugher abated, there was an uncomfortable moment of silence. Shiro debated on whether or not he should provide some sort of comfort. A part of him believed that Sendak deserved to experience all that Shiro had and more, but he couldn’t just watch him start to break down and say nothing.

Before he could do as much as open his mouth though, Sendak started speaking.

“I lied to you,” he said, his voice almost too low to hear. He kept his head lowered, digging his claws into the dirt.

“About what?”

“When I claimed that I did not follow, I was not truthful. While I did not follow your footsteps, I could still…sense you.” Another hollow, rumbling laugh erupted from somewhere deep in Sendak’s chest. “I could sense your agitation, your fear. I could  _ taste  _ you. No matter where I moved, where I went, you were always there.” He slammed his fist into the dirt, grinding it angrily into the soil. “The bond is too strong even for me.”

“So you’re saying that you knew where I was. And it wasn’t just a coincidence.”

“No,” he breathed. “I had not intended to interfere, but I could not sit back as you were destroyed by a pack of animals.”

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Shiro admitted. His emotions were whirling inside him, and he wished desperately that he could partition them into easy, manageable bits that he could address at his leisure. Like this, he was forced to confront too many things at once and just felt so…  _ lost. _ “Why are you telling me this?”

Sendak laughed again, then pushed himself to his feet. He brushed the crumbled dirt from his hands and knees and faced Shiro, lips curling into a nasty smile.

“There is no reason,” Sendak said. “I was using you as a means to ignore my failure.”

“What do you mean?” Shiro asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Sendak didn’t give him one. Not then.

Instead, he took a chute of water and walked over to Shiro, kneeling by his side. He pried Shiro’s hand away from his shoulder and tore at the remains of his clothing, wetting it thoroughly before he pressed the wet tip to Shiro’s scratches. They were shallow, just pinpricks of red along dirt-stained skin. 

Shiro watched him, wary but willing to accept his aid. Sendak inspected the wound on his side, which had also started to bleed again, and he got up and grabbed another, different piece of cloth that must have been a part of his bodysuit at some point. He began to recreate the pasty substance with some kind of plant he had stored away.

Shiro sat back against the tree and watched him for a while, feeling an odd sense of whiplash. Moments ago they had been screaming at each other; now Sendak was acting like nothing had happened.

As he cleaned Shiro’s wound and reapplied the paste, his eyes flickered up to Shiro’s face every so often, his gaze glinting with an unspoken, unnamed emotion. Shiro averted his gaze, staring instead at the leaves hanging overhead.

“Zarkon is all that I know of home,” Sendak said suddenly, startling Shiro.

“Huh?”

“I know nothing of the  _ family,” _ he spat the word, “that you and so many others speak of. I joined Zarkon’s army when I was but a child and began my training immediately. It was ruthless, and my trainers were cruel. The only time that I was offered genuine praise was when I killed one of my trainers in an accident. I had been shocked—destitute, foolishly  _ caring _ for those around me.”

“That’s not foolish,” Shiro protested. “Of course you felt bad. That’s how it should be.”

“That is what I hate most about you, Shiro. No matter what Zarkon or the druids put you through, you never lost your way. You continued to defy him until the very end. You even piloted the black lion, of all things!” He chuckled. “It was the ultimate slap in the face, and you had no idea. You were merely doing what you thought was  _ right. _ What you  _ knew _ to be right.”

_ Your connection is weak,  _ Zarkon had said.

“Zarkon was the original black paladin, wasn’t he?”

“Correct.”

“If he was a paladin, what made him decide to take over the universe?” Shiro asked, almost to himself. “How could he change so easily?”

“Only those in the upper echelon would know those details,” Sendak stated. “I was a commander, but in the end, still a soldier to be used or discarded as he pleased.”

“And yet you  _ still _ followed him.” Shiro just couldn’t wrap his mind around the notion.

“He provided food, shelter, and the promise of a better future. Zarkon  _ will _ control your galaxy, as he will many others.” This time, Sendak didn’t sound nearly as enthusiastic. He sounded matter-of-fact, like he found no joy in what he was saying.

“Sendak, what’s going on with you? Why are you telling me all of this?”

“You are a captive here, just I am. If anyone should bear witness to my final weakness, it is only fitting that it is the one who made me so.”

“ _ I _ made you weak? You did that on your own. I didn’t have anything to do with what happened to you.”

“You started this—all of it. Everything that I have done would have led to my success had it not been for you bringing your paladins together.”

“If you knew where Voltron was, then why  _ did _ you help me?”

“You mistake me for a seer.” He snorted. “I hadn’t a clue. It was pure luck that your backwater planet was the holding place of one of the lions. It wasn’t until I was ordered to follow your course that I realized this.”

“Wow, so you had no idea.” Shiro smiled. “That must have tough to handle.”

“In some ways,” Sendak said. He lifted his head. “I hadn’t intended to come after you, or attempt to bring you back to my side until we met for a second time.” He nonchalantly wiped the residue from the paste onto the moist cloth at his side. “Originally I had planned to kill you.”

Shiro remembered the look in Sendak’s eyes; the claws at his throat, millimeters from slicing into his skin.

“But you didn’t,” Shiro said. It wasn’t a question.

“No,” Sendak corrected. “I did not.”

“Didn’t, or couldn’t?”

Sendak growled, pulling himself away from Shiro.

“You did this to me! I tried to forget you by pushing you away, pushing you out of my mind. I helped you escape so that I could send you from this realm and relieve myself of your puny existence.” Sendak paced, his ears twitching, the tips lowered in agitation. “I didn’t know what was happening to me. Every waking moment I thought of you.” He curled his claws into a fist. “I could not escape. What we had done was imprinted into my very being, replayed the moment that thoughts of you crossed my mind.

“And then I felt you,” he said, his voice low and furious. “I felt you across the universe writhing in pain and need. An indescribable urge overcame me and I nearly sent half our forces to obtain you, if only to find you and ease both our suffering.”

“I remember.” Shiro took a breath. “It was my fault. I went into heat and you—that was how you found us.”

“Indeed.” Sendak replied. “But it doesn’t matter any longer. I was unable to fulfill my duty.”

“Taking the lions. Killing us.” Shiro swallowed. “Killing me.”

Sendak glanced at him, then turned away and picked up the empty container for water. 

“We are out of water,” was all that he offered Shiro before picked up a wooden spear by the fire and stomped away, disappearing into the brush.

Shiro sighed. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this fic finished for a while, but traveling for Christmas really wore me out and made editing take way longer than it should have.

By the time that night had begun its approach, Sendak had yet returned and Shiro was starving. There was leftover fruit on the opposite side of camp, but he didn’t think it was wise to move so much when he was still in healing.

So he waited.

Once Sendak finally came into view, it was immediately clear to Shiro he’d been hard at work. His fur was soaked, dirt and some kind of slime clinging to him. Under his armpit he carried his spear, and in his claws were fish of varying size; more were stuck to the spear, still twitching with life.

“I thought you were just getting water.”

“I spotted a school of fish on my way back. Fish are much easier to handle than any large animal when I have the use of only one arm.”

“Oh.” Shiro blinked. He eyed the wriggling fish warily. “How are you going to prepare them?”

Sendak stared at him, then set the fish next to Shiro, well within his reach. 

Shiro blanched.

“You don’t want me to—?”

“You have much more dexterity than I do at this point in time.”

“But—” he gaped at him. “I’ve never done it before.”

“Now’s your chance,” Sendak sneered. He walked over to the opposite side of camp, whereupon he pulled out an object and tossed it towards Shiro. It skidded along the dirt until it stopped inches from his thigh.

It was a knife—the one he’d seen him use before. Shiro picked it up gingerly, inspecting the make. It looked Galran. “Where did you get this knife?”

“A soldier without a weapon is a fool. It was stored inside my armor.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “So what do I have to do?”

“Take that and gut the fish. Then use the blunt edge to descale it, if you’d like. It should be simple enough.”

Shiro was about to protest, but thought better of it. Sendak was right; it didn’t make sense for him to do it with one arm. He didn’t know how what kind of meat he had eaten last night, or where he’d gotten it, but it must have been incredibly difficult to deal with skinning or gutting an animal with one hand.

“Okay.” Shiro looked at the fish. Its beady eyes bore into him. “Sure.”

Using his robotic arm, he wrapped his palm around the knife handle and reached for the nearest fish. It looked like an Earth-species in size and shape, but the color and features were unknown to him. Through Sendak’s instruction he slid the sharp edge of the knife down the middle and yanked out the guts. After that, he began descaling it. Now that it was ready to be cooked, he shoved the proffered stick through its middle and handed it to Sendak to be laid over the fire.

He repeated the motions with the other fish, and soon the scent of cooking meat filled the air. Shiro’s stomach growled. The fruit that he’d previously ignored were now calling his name.

“Hand me some of that fruit,” he said, pointing to the pile near Sendak. 

Sendak let out a huff of air and stood. To Shiro’s surprise, instead of just handing them to him, he moved to sit down next to Shiro before dumping them in his lap.

“You should eat more,” he said evenly, bracing his back against the tree behind him. “Your body will require nutrition to return to a functioning state.”

Then Sendak turned to his own piece of fruit—something spiney—and buried his teeth into the pliant flesh while Shiro looked on helplessly. Was that… concern?

Sendak caught him staring, and Shiro looked away, face going hot. From this distance, he could easily detect Sendak’s scent. It was musky; earthy. Shiro bit his lip to restrain himself from inhaling. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly. He quietly ate his fruit, wiping the excess juice dripping down his chin onto his forearms. After a while, Sendak moved to pick up the cooked fish and handed one to Shiro. 

He stared at it, hesitant to eat something so unknown to him. 

“You’re sure this is safe?” 

Sendak’s ears twitched, irritated. “You are not required to consume it.”

“That’s—” Shiro rolled his eyes. “You know what? Fine. If I die, it’s on you.”

He took a bite, and flavor exploded on his tongue. His eyes widened. He’d always been a fan of fish, but this was unlike anything he’d ever tasted.

Shiro was finished with his first by the time that Sendak was on his third piece, which was a feat, considering how quickly Sendak devoured his food. He ate like there was no tomorrow, and whenever he caught Shiro looking at him, he quickly looked away, something like a pout on his lips.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about?” Shiro prompted, once he’d eaten his fill. Sendak shot him a of confusion. “It’s just—I mean, you’re sitting next to me. I thought…”

“Must I have a reason to be near my—” he stopped, swallowing around his words, “—to be near you?”

“It’s not like we’re exactly best friends, Sendak.”

“No.” Sendak sank his claws into a piece of fruit that was similar to an orange. “I suppose we are not.”

“Sendak,” Shiro leaned forward, carefully resting his hands on his knees, “you’ve gotta understand that this—all this? It’s really confusing.” He shut his eyes tightly. “One minute you’re claiming you want me back as your omega, the next, you want to kill me, and now…” he sighed. “What do you  _ really _ want from me?”

It was a long time before Sendak answered him. He was big—much bigger than Shiro—but when he curled forward and leaned his elbow on his knee, scratching uneasily at the back of his ear, he looked…small. The confidence that he held up like a shield had shattered, leaving behind a more vulnerable version of Sendak. One that Shiro didn’t know what to do with.

“I no longer know myself,” Sendak said at length. “You have—confused me. Poisoned my mind. Before, I was sure of my place in the universe. I was Zarkon’s soldier, loyal to him only.

“But you made me feel  _ guilt _ .” He looked at Shiro, and his breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze. He found himself leaning towards him before he could help it, his neck throbbing hotly. 

Sendak moved closer, his fingers brushing his cheek. Shiro’s eyes fluttered closed.

“I never once questioned my actions, but you invaded my mind. I began to doubt myself, and I hated you for it.”

“Sendak,” Shiro breathed, seconds from launching himself at Sendak. The promise of warmth and comfort was almost too difficult to resist, but even so— 

“I—we can’t do this. I can’t trust you anymore. I can’t trust how you’re feeling, how  _ I’m _ feeling. We’re—” He leaned his head into Sendak’s large palm, almost against his will. “We’re  _ enemies _ .”

“We are both prisoners on this planet.” His claw brushed the mark, and it burned hot against Shiro’s skin. “Must you continue to suffer?”

“I…” The answer wasn’t clear. Shiro harbored doubts that could not be assuaged by the promise of a moment’s relief. It hurt to be so close, and yet so far, with a bond that struggled to stay alive, but if he let this continue, wouldn’t he just be making it worse for himself?

“I don’t have it in me to ignore my omega when he is in such pain,” Sendak said, his voice low, his breath hot against Shiro’s face.

Shiro hesitated more than he’d like to admit. He prided himself on his strength and keeping a cool head through tough times, but it  _ hurt  _ to feel like he was constantly fighting against the part of himself that had gone missing. 

He’d been hurting since Sendak had left him broken and scarred on Zarkon’s ship; he’d been hurting since he’d left Earth. Even on the ship, surrounded by friends, he felt like an outcast trying to play the part of the hero. 

Shiro knew, deep down, that this wouldn’t—couldn’t—possibly end well, but he was so tired of being dragged around space against his will time and again. 

At least with this, he could hold onto something that felt like it was his own, by his own choice, even if it was just for a little while.

He closed his eyes.

Sendak’s lips were warm.

Shiro has missed the heat; his fervor. He gripped the sides of Sendak’s face, and met his mouth again and again. Sendak leaned back against the tree and freed his hand, using it to bring Shiro closer. He was dragged half into his lap, knee inserted between Sendak’s thighs.

Sendak nuzzled his throat, and Shiro’s head lolled, giving him access. He didn’t necessarily understand this— _ them _ —but  _ fuck _ , he’d missed it. He’d missed how Sendak was warm and solid and real, and his mouth felt like heaven, his tongue rolling soothingly over the bondmark.

“It is agitated,” Sendak observed, scraping his teeth around the skin just outside the mark. Heat shot through Shiro and landed in his stomach, settling there.

“Sendak, wait,” he breathed, his arms quivering. Sendak pulled him against his chest, curling his hand over Shiro’s shoulder, lapping harder at the aching bond. Arousal tugged at Shiro’s gut, surging down into his groin. He was hard. 

“I don’t know what I believe,” Shiro said, as if continuing a train of thought. He pressed his hand against Sendak’s large chest, taking in the stark difference in size. “I’m not stupid enough to convince myself that this is all part of one big happy ending, but if I’m going down, I guess it wouldn’t be so bad to spend time just like this. I…” Shiro swallowed, his mouth full of words he wasn’t ready to say. “I missed you.”

Sendak said nothing, but buried his face in Shiro’s throat.

Shiro could feel his heart beating against his palm; a steady, constant beat that made Shiro feel strangely at ease. He leaned into the embrace, allowing himself to breathe in Sendak’s scent in a way he hadn’t before. Every lungful invigorated him, adding to the seed of comfort growing inside him.

They stayed like that for a while longer, but when Shiro’s wounds began to throb, it was time to rest. He felt strangely exhausted, like he’d spent the day hard at work when all he’d done was lie around.

Something between them had eased. Things weren’t perfect—maybe not even good, but it was a start.

* * *

He spent the next few days focusing on healing and recuperation.

Under Sendak’s watchful eye, he recovered fairly quickly, to the point where he could actually get up and move around without needing any help.

This made things easier for Sendak as well. Despite his claims that he was wholly independent, he struggled to complete menial tasks with only arm to rely on. Shiro was thus tasked with most of their food preparation; it was Sendak who liked to do the killing himself. Occasionally he’d come back covered in blood, chest puffed with pride, and Shiro would have to scrub his fur clean.

His gaze moved towards Sendak, as if naturally drawn to him.

His eyes followed the curve of his thick, meaty thighs. He was currently facing Shiro, crouched over the fire. He speared a piece of fish and then propped it above the fire. The claws on his feet dug into the ground, keeping him rooted to the spot. Sometimes Shiro could almost forget how very  _ alien _ Sendak was. He was monstrously big in comparison, and majority of his actions were driven by instinct.

He shifted forward, spreading his thighs, and Shiro immediately averted his gaze, cheeks going hot.

Sendak didn’t address Shiro’s reaction to his anatomy until the next time they bathed. Shiro had been working his fingers through the tough, knotted fur on Sendak’s lower back. Due to his size, Shiro was half-standing, half crouched. When he finished and made to move away, Sendak suddenly turned around, bringing him face to face with his crotch.

“Aren’t you curious?” Sendak said from above, settling his hand suggestively over the back of Shiro’s head. “You’ve been avoiding looking at it. When we mated, you hardly seemed to care.”

“Mated?” Shiro wrinkled his nose. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little  _ curious _ . I was just wondering: are all of the Galra like—” he nodded at his crotch, “—that?”

“The males of our species are.”

Shiro tried to imagine a female Galra soldier taking all of that and shuddered.

“You may think us strange, but yours is far stranger.” Sendak nodded at him, his lips curling into a smirk. “Our form is not unlike much of the universe. I have seen rare few that share your,” he paused, phrasing his words delicately, “ _ shape _ .”

It wasn’t exactly a compliment, but neither was it an insult. Shiro opened his mouth, then closed it, offering Sendak a raised eyebrow.

“It’s not hideous, by any means,” Sendak continued. “Some might consider it quaint.”

“Quaint, thanks,” Shiro drawled. “Nice to know that my penis is quaint.”

“Is that what you humans call it?” Sendak’s fingers carded through the hair on top of his head, tickling his skull. “And believe me, Shiro, I’ve seen much worse.”

Shiro went still.

Sendak didn’t appear to realize the affect that his words had on Shiro and kept talking, prattling on about their compatibility and something else that flew completely over Shiro’s head. He was still thinking about what Sendak had said. 

A long time ago he’d claimed that Shiro was just his plaything—a toy—and while he’d known that it was spat in the heat of the moment, it was unlikely that Sendak hadn’t had many other lovers.

The more that he allowed himself to fall back into old patterns, the more that he questioned the status quo.

_ What are we? _

Did Sendak consider him a lover? A notch on his belt? What was a mate to him?

As Sendak walked back towards camp, Shiro was almost tempted to say something, but stopped himself just in time.

_ Stop thinking about it. It’ll be over anyway once the paladins find us. _

If they found them.

“Shiro, come.”

He raised his head, realizing that he’d been staring at the dirt for quite a while now. The expression on Sendak’s face couldn’t be construed as  _ concern, _ but he did appear relieved when Shiro forced a smile onto his face and moved to follow.

* * *

Things changed; Shiro healed completely, and now that he was no longer forced to lie prone, they could find a way to sleep elevated above the ground. Shiro had originally suggested that Sendak do so without him, but Sendak refused to leave him alone, and lay curled near him night after night. Now that he was healed, Sendak had even insisted that they sleep together.

“You should sleep by my side,” he’d proposed casually. He was lying on his side, propped up on his arm while their breakfast cooked over the fire, and he stared directly at Shiro, challenging him to deny his request.

Shiro had been completely taken aback, pausing in the middle of pulling his armor above his head.

“Why?” Shiro asked, feeling slow and stupid in the morning. “Oh, is it the cold? We could just sleep in my lion.”

“Aren’t you concerned I’ll steal it—and you—away?” Sendak asked, more for curiosity’s sake than any real concern.

“If you wanted to do that, you would have done it already.” Shiro shrugged. “Well?”

Sendak blinked at him.

“I would prefer not to sleep in that cramped hunk of metal,” he sneered. “It only makes sense that we sleep together where it is more comfortable, and you will become ill if you allow the elements to affect you.”

Shiro had taken a good, long look at Sendak, suspecting that it had little to with his concern that he would become ill and more to do with his need to cuddle up next to Shiro at night.

He eventually relented, but as they slept together, it quickly became apparent that it wouldn’t be that easy to get rid of his nightmares. Sendak was finely tuned to the changes in Shiro’s body, and now what few hours of sleep Shiro got were made worse for him. 

Unexpectedly, instead of getting better, the dreams only seemed to get worse.

* * *

He was running, but the world kept tilting, and his feet slipped on the ground. His arm slammed into the cold, unforgiving metal floor. He thought he smelled blood. There were voices above his head, people saying things, but he couldn’t understand them, he couldn’t—

_ The others don’t know. _

Shiro gasped as if rising out of water. His eyes snapped open. His vision swam. The white porcelain sink swayed in and out of view; it was all he could do to hold on to the rim.

_ Where—? What am I? _

This was the bathroom back on the castle.

“A-Allura,” he rasped, sliding away from the sink. The floor shifted, but he managed to make it to the door. “Allura! Coran!”

Fingers were digging into his shoulder. He looked back and saw—

Faces. Nameless, alien faces. Suddenly, the sounds of their cheers exploded; Shiro winced and stumbled to his feet. He was—

In the arena.

“No,” he whispered. “No, this—how am I here?”

_ They haven’t seen what you’ve seen. What you’ve done. _

“I—”

The doors on the opposite end of the arena slid open. A body was pushed inside, stumbling, until they fell weakly against one of the pillars. A flash of snow white hair caught his eye.

“…Allura?”

Bloodied and battered, she was leaning against the pillar weakly like her body was about to give out, but she was alive.

“Allura!” he screamed, trying to find his voice among the crowd’s jeers. He couldn’t seem to reach her, no matter how quickly he ran. Then their eyes met, and—

He was right in front of her. He could see the pain reflecting in her eyes as she wrenched herself to her feet, swaying uncertainly.

“Allura, oh my god. Are you okay? How did—how did we get here? How are you—?”

“Shiro,” she said, looking afraid. “Please, don’t.”

“What? Don’t what?”

“Don’t do this.” Tears sprang in her eyes. “You’re a paladin of Voltron! You’re not supposed to be like them. Please!”

“I don’t know what you’re saying!” He could barely hear himself over the crowd, their cheers so loud he could feel the vibrations in her chest. “Princess, how can I help? You have to tell me and we—we have to get out of here!”

She was saying something, but he couldn’t make it out. He was shaking her shoulders, trying to reach her. Then he blinked and his fingers were wrapped around her throat. Startled, he tried pulling his fingers away, but they only wound around tighter. The muscles in her throat jumped, bulging out as his grip grew perilously tight.

“I can’t move!” he shouted. “I don’t know what’s wrong!”

Her mouth moved silently, tears crawling down her cheeks. He tried and tried, but it was like the hands attached to his body were no longer his own.

The cheers were getting louder now. He could feel their voices rise and swell in his chest, a crescendo of chants.

_ kill her kill her kill her _

Bile rose in the back of his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to look Allura in the face. Tears leaked out of corner of his eyes, dripping down past his cheeks.

Then suddenly, everything went dark. The voices faded. Allura was gone, and in her place was empty air. Shiro spun around, but there was nothing around him save for the all-encompassing, black dark. The only sound that could be heard was the quick beat of his heart and his rough, uneven breaths.

He turned back around only to find Allura gazing at him just a few feet away. Standing next to her was Zarkon.

“Allura!”

Her eyes were narrowed, anger etched deeply into her features. She touched her throat and he gasped; the skin was still bruised, darkened by Shiro’s attempt to murder her. Zarkon eyes were bright. His fingers came around her throat, mirroring the pattern of bruises.

Shiro reached out, and that was when she spoke:

“I was wrong. You  _ are _ a monster.”

* * *

 

Shiro woke up screaming into a mouthful of fur.

For a few seconds he had no idea where he was. His heart was pounding, his breath ghosting hotly against the purple fur. He tried to move, and found that his arms were bound tightly to his body; something was wrapped around him, effective immobilizing Shiro. His breath hitched, heartbeat kicking into overdrive.

There was a rumbling sound from above and the hold loosened. A large hand came into view.

“Wha—?” His throat stung and he winced, swallowing thickly. “S-Sendak?”

“Another dream terror,” he stated.

“Right.” Shiro let his eyes fall shut. This had nearly become a nightly occurrence. He could still picture Allura’s face. That one had been mild compared to the others. “Sorry.”

“Your apology is unnecessary,” Sendak said, gentling his voice. “You were screaming the Altean princess’ name.”

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” Shiro said, his voice quiet. He didn’t like to think about the person he’d been in the arena. Bits and pieces of his memories came and went with his dreams, so often that he’d lost track of what had been a part of his reality and how much had been a result of the druid’s play.

Shiro wriggled a little and Sendak sat up, releasing him completely, eyes following him like a hawk. Shiro grimaced when he brushed his palm across his forehead; he was bathed in sweat. Although the nights were cool, Sendak’s fur kept in a remarkable amount of warmth.

They met eyes, and Shiro was suddenly relieved beyond belief that Sendak’s eyes were not purple.

“I’m gonna go get some water,” Shiro said, moving to stand. He felt lightheaded for a few seconds, but when his vision cleared, he grabbed the supplies lying on the ground and made for the spring.

The coast was clear when he got there. Sendak had made sure to mark the territory and keep away any unfavorable wildlife, but Shiro was always wary; there was no guarantee the wildlife here would obey their rules.

He stripped out of his bodysuit and rinsed it, then set to the side to dry. Afterwards, he slipped into the water, dousing himself multiple times before he felt satisfied.

He laid against the edge of the pool, scrubbing his face with his hands. He paused with his fingers over his eyelids.

God, how long had things been like this? He’d had lost count of how many days they’d been out here.

It couldn’t have been more than a few months, but it felt like years. Sometimes he caught himself staring at the sky, eyes searching for a familiar ship in the distance.

_ I was wrong. You are a monster. _

Maybe this was how it supposed to turn out. It was his fault that they’d lost Allura and gotten separated. Even finding  _ Sendak _ —that was due to his actions. He was starting to think that maybe there’d been a mistake when the black lion chose him. Maybe—

“Your dream terrors have been worse as of late,” said Sendak from behind him.

Shiro didn’t turn around. He slid further into the water, praying Sendak would remember that he wasn’t supposed to  _ care. _

“I don’t know what you mean,” Shiro grit out. “We call them ‘nightmares’ on Earth.”

“You can’t play the fool with me, Shiro.”

He sighed explosively. “What do you want from me, Sendak? It’s not like this should matter to you.”

That was a lie. The Sendak that Shiro had known on the ship had never been known for his patience, but he’d been treating Shiro kindly these last few days. He suffered from nightmare after nightmare, but Sendak never let him go.

“These ‘night mares’ may do little but keep me from sleeping, but pretending that you aren’t suffering is clearly affecting you more than you let on. So  _ talk _ .”

_ Why do you care, _ Shiro wanted to say, but the words that came out of his mouth were shocking even to him.

“You were right.”

Sendak made a sound, indicating his confusion. Shiro stepped out of the water, blaming the cool air on how badly he was shaking.

“You were right, okay? I’m finally admitting it. You were right all along.” He laughed, the sound razor sharp. “I’m a  _ monster _ . I constantly dream about being back on the Galra ship out of some—some sadistic pleasure or something, and in those dreams I murder my teammates.” 

Now that he had started talking, he couldn’t seem to stop.

“I’ve killed people, I’ve—I’ve murdered them in cold blood. Not because I thought it was the right thing to do, but just so I could keep on living. And there was no point! I didn’t know if Matt was alive; I didn’t even know if I’d ever make it out of there, but I kept doing it because—”

He’d always thought it had been hope, but had it  _ really? _

“Maybe, deep down, a part of me enjoyed it,” he croaked. “What kind of leader  _ does _ that?”

Sendak had been silent for the exchange, watching him with a calmness that Shiro found irritating.

“Is that all?”

Shiro rounded on Sendak, who looked supremely unimpressed.

“What do you mean ‘is that all’?”

“This changes nothing.”

“Nothing…of—of course it does! I can’t be a leader like this. You were right when you said I was broken. How can I try to keep the paladins in shape when I’m just barely holding it together myself?”

His vision blurred. He blinked back tears, rubbing the heel of his hand against his eyelids.

“You really are a fool, Shiro,” Sendak said, his voice surprisingly gentle, “if this is all it takes to rattle you.”

“Fuck you,” Shiro spat. “This isn’t me rattled, this is—everyone’s depending on me and I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Is that the attitude all your paladins possess?”

“I don’t deserve to be a paladin!” Shiro roared. “Don’t you get it? This is all because of me! If I hadn’t lost Allura, we wouldn’t be here.  _ I _ wouldn’t be here. I never thought I’d see you again. I thought I could put it behind me. But I can’t. This is who I am.” He lowered his head, fingers curling into fists. “This is what I deserve.”

“You have so little faith I am almost disappointed.”

Shiro said nothing.

“The things that I said in that hunk of metal were lies.”

“…what?”

“I was furious with you. With my capture. I wanted—“ he stared at his fist; curled it, “—revenge. I wanted to hurt you the only way I knew how. I am surprised you continue to believe those words.”

“You weren’t lying. It’s true! They’re all true.”

“Do you think you are the only one who has suffered?” Sendak raised his hand, sweeping it between them. “Do you believe that all the past paladins were beings made of all things pure in this universe?”

“No, but…”

“Do you know why I was originally attracted to you?”

“No,” Shiro admitted, taken aback.

“We Galra admire strength above all else. When I first saw you, I thought you were a weakling and would be killed off within two matches. Then you survived once. Then again. And you surprised the whole stadium when you found creative ways to outsmart some of our best contenders.”

“Where are you going with this, Sendak?”

“Brute strength means little to a true Galran. Yes, it is an attractive feature, but your inner strength is what truly caught my attention.” He approached Shiro casually, eyes piercing through him. “While you were fighting for your life, you did not even realize how remarkable you were. None had lasted so long in the arena that weren’t true monsters. You were a measly human without a single scale covering your body, and yet you  _ survived. _ ”

He walked up to Shiro, stopping until he was within reach. Then he gripped Shiro by his chin, tipping his head up and forcing their eyes to meet.

“Do not insult yourself and claim you are something as common as a  _ monster _ ,” he murmured angrily. “Do not insult  _ me  _ for choosing you as my mate. You are stronger than this. You are a paladin of Voltron.”

Shiro’s eyes went wide. He couldn’t believe those words were coming out of Sendak’s mouth. He hated Voltron and everything it stood for. Zarkon had combed the galaxy for the sole purpose of destroying Voltron, with Sendak at his side. 

The shockingly honest confession from Sendak forced the negative feelings that had been churning inside him to calm.

“I…” He was speechless, staring helplessly into Sendak’s eyes. It didn’t seem right for his feelings to settle so easily, and he didn’t believe most of what Sendak said, but it did make him feel a little...better, maybe.

“I didn’t realize you were such a fan of Voltron,” Shiro teased, in lieu of a proper answer.

Sendak’s eye widened imperceptibly and he released Shiro like he’d been burned.

“Of course not,” he hurried to say. “Finish bathing; we have work to do.”

The moment was officially over, but Shiro didn’t forget the warmth of Sendak’s words lingering somewhere in his chest for a long while. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, when I said it would take a while to get to a happy ending...

It startled Shiro how unflinchingly casual Sendak became about touching him.

When he wasn’t aggressively spooning Shiro in his sleep, Sendak made sure to maintain thorough contact throughout the day. In the mornings, he would physically rub his nose and mouth along the length of Shiro’s neck, dragging his hand over his stomach and hips. Occasionally he might tug him closer, pulling Shiro into the warm press of his fur, his breath hot against Shiro’s neck.

It was completely different from how he’d been when Shiro was just been a prisoner on Zarkon’s ship. Back then, Sendak kept himself at a distance outside of heat. He hadn’t been quite so…affectionate.

The behavior was new, but it wasn’t bad, feeling wanted. He couldn’t blame Sendak for wanting to be close. After all, he’d been craving the familiarity of Sendak’s touch for months. 

Shiro hadn’t felt at ease since he had been taken prisoner months ago, and while being stranded on a planet with Sendak wasn’t exactly  _ home _ , it was—something.

He ran his fingers over the bond. The skin tingled. Shiro sighed, tipping his head towards the sky. 

The sun was still rising, and the air was still cool, lacking in its nearly constant state of humidity. Shiro loved mornings like this; during these times he could work hard then relax later on when the heat became unbearable. Sendak usually spent his time in the forests of the jungle looking for supplies or hunting.

He heaved himself over the edge of the platform, brushing off stray strands of fur. There was no knowing what would happen if— _ when _ they parted, but now that they were close again, it seemed difficult to imagine.

He left camp to go looking for fresh water. When he returned, Sendak had already started on lunch, and was carefully digging his claws into a spiny fruit to pull away the hard outer shell. He had it lodged between his thighs while he worked. It looked ridiculous; Shiro was smiling as he sat down in front of him and reached out to help.

Sendak yanked the fruit away somewhat childishly, baring his teeth at Shiro in a similar manner.

“I don’t need your assistance.”

“’Course not,” Shiro quipped. “Just hand it over, Sendak. You’re gonna crush it.”

He relented with a huff, handing over the fruit without looking at him. Shiro got to work, prying the shell away from the soft, wet innards. Sendak watched him for a few moments before moving to stoke the fire some more. He looked a little bit like a kicked puppy.

With the fruit peeled and ready, Shiro checked it for any worms or insects and then ripped half of it for Sendak.

Sendak took it from his fingers and immediately ripped through the soft flesh of the fruit. He didn’t say ‘thank you.’

* * *

Time seemed to move so much more slowly when there wasn’t any army to fight or training to be done. Sendak was off doing whatever it was he had deemed important, and Shiro was trying to find new ways to occupy the time.

The elevated platform that they had erected was made out of vines, wood, and padded with a soft material found lying around the jungle. The bed suited their need to keep off the ground, and Shiro looked for fresh material to pad it with, which consisted of some kind of mossy plant that he set out to dry, grass, and large leaves.

He looked up just as he finished. The sun was only just peaking high in the sky, signaling for a long, hot afternoon.

With nothing better to do, Shiro took off towards the shore to see if he could catch dinner. On his way, he glanced up at the sky; there was no sign on the paladins, of course. There never was. 

He looked at his lion, contemplating trying the radios again. She was standing proudly off to the side, almost as if in wait.

“You and me both,” he muttered, placing his hand on his hip.

By the time the sun was dipping low, Shiro had only managed to get a few crabs. He’d been afraid to engage any of the fish; from what he knew of Earth, spikes and spines never bode well. Sendak may have tested the waters with the wildlife here, but Shiro’s body was much more prone to sickness.

Arms laden with his spoils, he moved back toward camp, eyes staying towards the sunset. It was gorgeous; a lighter yellow than their sun, which had to do with a science he couldn’t remember. He’d bet anything that Pidge would have known immediately.

He felt his throat close.

“You gaze at the sky often,” Sendak remarked from behind him.

Shiro jumped, turning just as Sendak was walking over to stand at his side. He followed Shiro’s gaze to watch as the last rays of sunlight starting to dip below the horizon.

It hadn’t been a conscious decision, but Shiro realized that it was true.

“Yeah,” he said. His voice was quiet.

Sendak said nothing in reply, but turned his head to look at Shiro, whose eyes were still trained on a point far in the distance.

Shiro sighed. He tried to hold onto the hope that they would eventually be found, but that hope was beginning to trickle away, drop by drop.

_ It’s notorious for lost ships never finding their way home. _

Sendak’s eye had been boring into him for a few minutes now. When he finally looked at Sendak, he was closer than Shiro remembered. He’d never noticed until now how even their eyes were different. Whereas humans had pupils and veins, Sendak’s one good eye was like pure gold.

Sendak leaned forward, and Shiro’s eyes slipped closed.

Their lips met, his mouth parting against Sendak’s tongue willingly. They traded lazy, sweet kisses that made Shiro’s mind go fuzzy and blank. Sendak stepped closer, his hand curling around Shiro’s arm. Shiro stepped into his embrace, bringing his hand up to Sendak’s cheek, fingers brushing across the soft fur.

Sendak made a soft, hungry sound into his mouth. The place where their lips met tingled with electricity.

Sendak hadn’t made any moves to try to ‘mate’ him so far, which was perhaps out of regard for their still tenuous relationship, or perhaps simply the fact that they were meeting outside of rut and heat. That, and his injuries, of course.

Shiro pulled away and opened his eyes. Sendak was staring at him, and the blatant desire on his face sent heat crawling into Shiro’s cheeks. He licked his lips, noting the way that Sendak’s eye followed the path of his tongue. Want surged into his chest and he sucked in a sharp breath, trailing his hand down Sendak’s arm.

“Sendak, I—”

“Your scent,” Sendak said, interrupting Shiro’s thoughts. “We should return. It will be dark soon and we have yet to eat. You are still injured.”

_ My scent? _

He pointed it out as though in reprimand for words that Shiro had yet to say. It was a lukewarm response to the enthusiasm Shiro had been expecting. Being stranded on a planet without any hope of rescue should have been enough reason for them to take advantage of their time alone, but Sendak didn’t look comforted by Shiro’s approach.

He released Shiro’s arm and then pulled away completely, taking the warmth of his embrace and Shiro’s confidence with him.

Shiro shivered, realizing that the goosebumps decorating his skin were from more than just arousal.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, trying not to sound disappointed. “Let’s go.”

* * *

In the mornings that followed, Sendak was less aggressive than usual, taking his time in rubbing Shiro all over with his hand and nose. The bizarre sessions didn’t last long, and he was gentle.

“Why do you do that?” Shiro finally asked at one point. Sendak’s nose passed just under his throat and he shuddered. Cultural sensitivity aside, he couldn’t stand not knowing what was going on. 

“I’m marking you with my scent,” Sendak replied. His voice was low and gravelly in the morning, a sultry roll that made Shiro’s instincts flare. He swept his palm up Shiro’s chest, slowly dragging his nails along his skin.

Shiro’s breath hitched.

Outside of the morning’s ‘scenting’, however, Sendak barely touched him at all. In fact, he avoided the campsite entirely.

In some ways, Shiro appreciate the careful decorum, but there was that stubborn, filthy part of himself that missed Sendak’s rough handling from early on in their relationship.

Strangely enough, it almost felt like Sendak was pulling away. He didn’t quite understand what had triggered the sudden change in attitude. He wanted to confront him, but he wasn’t sure what about.

* * *

It wasn’t until a few days later that Shiro realized what was happening.

He woke up to the sun rising over the hills, casting away the morning fog, flickering over his eyelids. Shiro sat up gingerly, blinking away sleep clinging to his eyelids. That night he hadn’t suffered from nightmares—or, at the very least, he couldn’t remember them—and a glance behind him told him that Sendak was still deeply asleep.

He shifted, trying to figure out how he was going to extract himself. One of Sendak’s thighs was inserted between Shiro’s knees, and every time they he tried to wriggle free, Sendak wound around him even tighter. It had the unintentional and unfortunate effect of rubbing Shiro’s groin against the top of his thigh.

He shuddered, trying not to give into the urge to grind against it.

On a cool morning like this Shiro appreciate Sendak’s warmth, but along with a sudden sensitivity, he was feeling slightly nauseous.

Fearing a messy accident, he’d almost succeeded in freeing himself and was stepping over the edge of the platform when Sendak suddenly moved, murmuring something in his sleep and dragging Shiro closer by his ankle. There was an awkward pause where Shiro was hopping on one leg, trying to figure out he was going to wrench his foot free, when Sendak’s eyes snapped open.

Shiro froze. His heart started pounding for some reason.

Sendak turned his head, taking in the early morning sunshine, ears twitching. Whereas Shiro relied on the sun for his sense of time, Sendak seemed to have a pretty accurate internal clock.

“You are headed off very early, Shiro.”

It wasn’t phrased as an accusation, but it felt like one nonetheless. Shiro felt Sendak’s claws drag across his skin when he shifted, and the motion sent a tingling, hot sensation up his thigh.

“I don’t feel so good,” Shiro admitted just as a wave of nausea rolled over him. Saliva filled his mouth and he swallowed. “I think I might be getting sick.”

Sendak frowned, his brow furrowing. He motioned for Shiro to come towards him. Shiro leaned over the edge of the wooden platform and Sendak pulled him down by his shoulder, pressing their foreheads together.

“What?”

“Quiet,” Sendak said, shushing him. They stayed like that for a few seconds, and then he moved to start sniffing at Shiro’s neck.

“What are you doing? Can you smell if I’m sick?”

“I can smell sickness in most lifeforms,” Sendak said, releasing his grip on Shiro’s shoulder. He straightened, bringing his fingers to the bondmark. The skin tingled. “However, you are not ill. Don’t worry.”

“What do you mean? What is it, then?”

Sendak gave him a  _ look _ . Shiro had the feeling that he was supposed to be interpreting something from it, but he returned his gaze with a blank stare.

“Have you truly forgotten?”

“Forgotten what?” Sendak let out an angry huff, sparking Shiro’s irritation. “Sendak, seriously,  cut me some slack. I’m not the master of instincts like you. Does this have to do with why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Avoiding?” Sendak’s lips curled. “I have done nothing of the sort.”

“You have! You’ve been—” Shiro’s mouth fell shut. Admitting that he’d noticed how Sendak hadn’t been as close to him as he usually was seemed kind of far-fetched, now that he was actually saying it out loud. “—distant,” he finished.

“If by distant you meant that I have given you what you desire,” Sendak drawled. “From what I know of you, you prefer a good deal of space before your heat begins, but it seems that my efforts have been in vain when you can hardly remember your own cycle.”

“My…” Shiro’s mouth went dry.

Suddenly everything made sense.

The sensitivity, the nausea; how could he have been so stupid?

“Oh my god, I completely forgot.” He buried his fingers in his hair, tugging blindly at the strands. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening. I’m not—”

Shiro made a desperate sound in the back of his throat. He felt, rather than saw Sendak climb over the edge of the bed, and by the time that he’d worked himself into a frenzied panic, Sendak had wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him close.

“Calm yourself,” he muttered into the back of his head. “This is no different from before.”

“How is this not different? We’re—we’re stranded here and I’m—” he paused. “This isn’t like being on the ship. What if—what if things get out of hand? We don’t have any kind of protection, or—or any kind of stock. There’s fruit, but we’ll have to go fishing and I don’t even know if I’ll be able to  _ move _ in a couple of hours.”

His cramps didn’t last long, but they were always severe enough that he wasn’t able to function normally without some kind of medical aid.

And there were no meds on this planet. Not the kind he needed.

Shiro sighed, leaning against Sendak’s chest. He felt significantly calmer, which he assumed was a side-effect of being in close quarters with his alpha.

“If you knew this was happening, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you were aware. You never had trouble keeping track of your cycles on the ship,” Sendak pointed out.

“Back then I wasn’t being thrown around the galaxy.” He absently ran his palm over the fur lining Sendak’s chest. At first it had been strange being with an alien that was so... furry, but like most things, he’d gotten used to it.

“Perhaps,” Sendak said. He brushed his knuckles along Shiro’s jaw, his gentle touch at odds with the words coming out of his mouth. “Had I not helped you, the druids would have had a field day examining your biology.”

Then he laughed, a deep rumble that Shiro could feel through his palm. Shiro curled his fingers into fists and looked up at Sendak.

“What made you want to help me escape? I feel like I don’t have the full story.”

Sendak’s hand fell to his shoulder. He was silent for a few moments, refusing to meet his gaze. 

“If you believe I did it out of a sense of justice, you are mistaken.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Shiro teased. Sendak’s lips quirked.

“Many cycles before your escape, I was approach by the leader of those repulsive druids.”

“The leader?”

“Yes.” Sendak’s ears twitched, the tips flattening as he spoke in a low growl. The sound send shivers rippling down Shiro’s spine. “She came to me and began speaking without offering even a  _ greeting _ .

* * *

“I never imagined that I would one day find you chained.”

Her voice was like silk, erupting from a dark corner of the hallway, avoiding detection entirely. Sendak has just finished reporting his progress to Zarkon, and was about to go and collect the prisoner—Shiro—when she spoke up.

He froze, his fingers twitching by his side; the only indication of his surprise. 

“Chained,” he repeated, glancing her way. She moved closer, standing in the middle of his path: a threat. “I know not what you mean, but you are Zarkon’s pawn, and none of my concern.” He bared his teeth. “Out of my way.” 

“You’ve been made weak,” she hissed, sliding close enough to touch his shoulder. Her fingers were cold as ice. “Made weak by Zarkon’s toy. And it is foolish to assume that Zarkon does not know of your transgressions.” 

A feeling not unlike fear rippled through Sendak. He looked directly at the druid, wary of her knowing gaze. 

“You know nothing,” he declared with a false bravado. “Do not touch me again, witch.” 

“Be warned, Commander,” she began, ignoring his words. “If you do not relinquish your hold soon, Zarkon  _ will _ take action, and your little  _ pet _ will be the first to die.” 

Anger burned hot in Sendak’s chest, and he was growling before he’d even realized it, stepping towards the druid threateningly. She looked unfazed, watching his boldfaced display unfold calmly. 

Then, she began to laugh. 

* * *

“The druids voices grate on my ears, but it was even moreso that day. She laughed—” He growled, baring his teeth at an unseen enemy. “She threatened to have you killed for treason if I did not relinquish my ‘hold’.”

“I—I had no idea,” Shiro murmured, taken aback.

He hadn’t realized that the druids were able to look into his thoughts and discover things he hadn’t admitted to, but it should have been obvious. They tore into his mind, taking his insecurities and flaunting them in front of his eyes in a variety of attempts to break him. Sometimes, Sendak had been a part of his hallucinations.

“What rattled me most at the time was not her threat, but the thoughts that came after.” He let out a low laugh. “I  _ doubted _ my loyalty to Zarkon. I had nothing but pure, total loyalty since I was but a young runt, and yet when I thought of leaving you, it crippled my resolve.”

He looked down at Shiro. “It was then that I realized I needed to be rid of you if I was ever going to free myself of your poison.”

Shiro didn’t know what to say to that. Talking about himself like he was poison didn’t sit well with him, but he could understand what Sendak meant. He’d been ignoring his feelings for Shiro—as complicated and fledgling as those feelings might have been—and trying to realign his ideology with Zarkon’s. A part of Shiro was proud that he’d been able to make him doubt his allegiance to the tyrannical empire, but he still didn’t know how  _ he _ really felt about Sendak.

Maybe this was his chance to find out.

They’d been silent for some minutes, and just as Shiro opened his mouth to propose preparing for next step of his heat, when Sendak swept him into a deep kiss, cutting off all of his thoughts in one fell swoop.

Sendak kissed with a note of aggression that had been absent since their time on the island, drinking in Shiro’s gasps like water. His hand slid down Shiro’s back, fingers prodding at the crease of his ass. Shiro knew that he wouldn’t be wet for quite a while, but hot anticipation shot through him as he clung helplessly to Sendak’s shoulders.

When he tried to pull away to give himself a chance to breath, Sendak took his lower lip between his teeth and bit down. Shiro tasted blood.

“Sendak, wait,” he said, wedging his arm between their chests to force some distance between them. “Seriously, it’s—I actually feel kind of sick and I’m going to have cramps soon, so I’d appreciate it if you would  _ wait. _ ”

Sendak raised a brow, but loosened his hold on Shiro.

“Cramps?” the word sounded foreign in his mouth.

“Yeah, they’re—” Shiro licked his lips, trying to decide how to word it. “My body is preparing itself for heat, so my insides are kind of squeezing themselves. It’s not fun, but it’s a necessary part of the process.”

“Certainly they are not that painful.”  

“Imagine if someone kicked your, uh, genitalia.” Sendak’s lips curled back into a snarl, and Shiro smiled. “It’s like that, only worse. And for a longer period of time. Trust me when I say it’s not fun. I think being near you should help, though.”

“Explain.” Sendak sounded curious.

“Your scent has a calming effect. My body should recognize you as my, uh, mate and sometimes that can help make the process less painful.”

Sendak looked pleased at the notion of Shiro relying on him in such a manner.

Shiro was starting to feel a tightening deep in his abdomen, signaling the beginning of his heat, so he cut further conversation short.

“I think this is it,” he said, barely repressing a groan. He was leaning heavily against Sendak, fingers clutching loosely at his fur. “I’m just gonna lay down for a while.”

Sendak released him without comment, but hovered nearby, watching him carefully. There wasn’t any kind of heat pad Shiro could use, so he had to settle with curling into a ball in the middle of their shared bed and hoping that it would be over soon. 

At some point Sendak shifted and slid off the platform, causing the support to shift and sway, which only served to make Shiro’s head start spinning. He buried his face in the soft bedding, biting his lip as sharp spikes of pain began to curl in his gut.

_ It’ll be over soon, _ he thought helplessly.

* * *

‘Soon’ didn’t come until late in the day.

Sendak had left early on to go hunting, banking on the likelihood that he would be back for the worst of it, but the cramps reached their peak not long after Sendak left.

He grit his teeth against the pain, clenching his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall down his cheeks. His only comfort was the thought that least out here he was warm and relatively comfortable; on the Galra ship, he’d been a shivering mess of hormones and pain until Sendak was able to come take him to his quarters.

It was strange how after many moons of being apart, he still ended up relying on Sendak. Granted, there was a great deal that Sendak needed help with now that he was down an arm, but it was frustratingly similar to his time on the ship.

_ Don’t think like that, _ he told himself.  _ It’s different. He’s…different. We’ve both gone through some changes. _

Only Shiro couldn’t tell how much was the effect of being stranded here with Shiro. He cared more than he’d like to admit, and because of that, he still didn’t fully trust Sendak.

At the very least, though, he could trust him with this. He was a  _ very _ good alpha in that sense.

Just thinking about it made Shiro’s cheeks feel warm. By the time that Sendak returned with a spearful of fish, Shiro was trying to regain his clutch on reality. He made a sound of acknowledgement when Sendak called his name.

“You do appear to be in great pain,” Sendak observed from his position by the fire. He was cleaning the fish with a knife, and doing a decent job of it with one hand, using the end of the spear to hold the head in place. Shiro watched his muscles ripple and bulge as he prepared the food and felt his mouth go dry.

Once the fish were cooking, Sendak took the pot of clean water that had been boiling and checked the temperature before bringing it over to Shiro.

“Water,” he stated, as if Shiro’s pain made him unable to detect that simple fact.

“I get that,” he snapped, immediately regretting it. “Sorry, I’m not—I didn’t mean that. I get like this when I don’t have any aids. There was a medical station on board Princess Allura’s ship that I could use, and it’s been awhile since I’ve felt this bad.” Sendak blinked at him impassively. Shiro lowered his gaze, feeling oddly embarrassed. “So, thanks.”

Sendak said nothing, his lips turning down before he shoved it in Shiro’s face. “Perhaps you would prefer the addition of the herb that I used to reduce your pain before.”

“No.” Shiro had already considered it. “I don’t want to be numb when it hits me. I’ll just suffer for a little while and then—yeah.” He flashed Sendak a watery smile, who breathed harshly through his nose and walked back to the campfire.

The smell of food did nothing for Shiro’s appetite. He wasn’t hungry, and it was unlikely he would be until his heat ended. That said, he should have probably mentioned this to Sendak, who kept walking over to him, offering him chunks of meat of varying size.

“Not hungry,” he said, turning his head away.

“Eat. You will need your strength.”

“I can’t. It makes me nauseous. I’ll probably be hungry later,” he paused, noticing the way that Sendak’s fur was bristling and added, “okay?”

His placating tone seemed to calm Sendak, whose feathers had clearly been ruffled by Shiro’s earlier rebuttal. He nodded to him and worked his way through several pieces of fish before he’d had his fill. After that, Sendak stood by Shiro’s side, brushing his sweaty tuft of hair away from his forehead.

“You smell,” Sendak began, pausing to lean down and nose at his neck, “fertile.”

The day was quickly heating up, and the humidity of the jungle wasn’t helping matters any. He felt absolutely disgusting, but the heat-addled part of his brain was quickly taking over, and it loved the fact that Sendak thought that about Shiro.

“Yeah?” he breathed, closing his eyes against the arousal sweeping through his body. “You can smell that?”

“It became easier once we mated. Without the insufferable stench of the Galra ship your scent smells even sweeter.” He licked a hot stripe along Shiro’s neck; Shiro twitched, hands reaching for Sendak’s hand.

Whether he wanted to push him away or pull him closer, he wasn’t sure. When he gripped his forearm, his arms felt like they were made of rubber. His body was warm all over.

Suddenly it felt imperative that he get as close to Sendak as possible. He sat up, climbing over the edge of the bed so he could wrap his arms around Sendak’s shoulders.

“You smell like—” It was hard to describe. Sendak’s scent was unlike anything comparable on Earth, but at the same time, it felt familiar. Comforting. He rubbed his nose and mouth along Sendak’s collarbone, ignoring the fur tickling his lips in favor of inhaling his scent. “Good. You smell so good, Sendak.”

“A ringing endorsement.” Sendak smirked, lining their hips. His intentions were clear; suggestive, but Shiro knew better than to get into it before his body was ready. He shook his head at Sendak, signaling a clear end to their escapades.

After a beat of silence, Sendak acquiesced, stepping away. He was hard, his sex jutting forward, but he made no move to pleasure himself, instead lifting and then deposited Shiro back into the middle of their bed. Then he crawled in behind him, positioning Shiro to where he was supported against Sendak, using his arm as a pillow.

Tears sprang into his eyes, and Shiro wasn’t sure why.

“Thank you,” he said, the weight of his words resting heavy on his chest.

The morning was warming up quickly, with patches of hot sunlight streaming through the canopy above them, so he closed his eyes. He pressed his head against Sendak’s chest and tried to match his own breathing to the beat of Sendak’s heart, hoping it would somehow help lessen the excruciating pain as his body tried to destroy itself.

He resigned himself to waiting.

* * *

Shiro jerked into wakefulness as the first hints of slick trailed down his thigh, a slight dampness spread across his inner thigh that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.

He froze, trying not to move, his heart pounding. It had been months since his heat with an alpha—months since he’d done anything like this with Sendak. And while Sendak had been patient, he had been hard against his hip for hours.

At the same time that arousal flared and curled hotly in his gut, he felt a burst of nervousness that he hadn’t expected. This wasn’t like heat inside Zarkon’s ship, but out in the open and completely of his own volition. No external forces were pressuring him into this; it was something he wanted.

Anxious energy mounted inside him. He started shaking. Squeezing his eyes shut, Shiro prayed that Sendak wouldn’t notice his reaction. This was just new territory; territory Shiro still wasn’t certain he wanted to traverse.

Granted, with his sensitive nose, he’d probably noticed the moment that he went into heat. 

Thus Shiro was startled when Sendak’s arm tightened around his waist. 

He lowered his nose against the top of Shiro’s skull, nails tugging impatiently at his thin bodysuit. Thinking back on, Shiro wasn’t sure why he’d even bothered to put it on; now he was desperate to take it off. He reached for the zipper, fingers trembling, uncooperative. After a few seconds, it was tempting to just ask Sendak to rip right through it and save him the trouble.

If his hands would just stop  _ shaking— _

He jumped when Sendak’s hand landed on his hip.

“I will not fuck an unwilling participant,” he said. Hearing an Earth curse word—one that Shiro had taught him—was as amusing as it was startling.

“What?”

“You’ve been in heat for some minutes now. When you finally realized it yourself, you became tense.” Sendak released his hold on Shiro, waiting until he’d adjusted himself before he pointed to his fingers, which Shiro physically stilled. “I smell fear on you. You’re trembling.”

“I’m—I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he admitted. “Maybe I am a little nervous. It’s been awhile since we’ve done this and not when, y’know, it hasn’t been. Necessary.”

At least in his case. Sendak’s motives had always been self-indulgent, as far as he understood it.

“Your reply,” Sendak prompted.

Shiro curled his fingers into fists. “I’m not going anywhere.” Then he took a deep breath, solidifying his resolve. “You’re my alpha, Sendak.” A thrill shot through him at his own words. “That isn’t going to change anytime soon. I want to do this with you.”

“Good,” Sendak purred.

Then, as if a switch had been flipped, he stepped off of the platform and picked up Shiro, depositing him on the ground.

“Wha—Sendak, what are you doing?”

“That will not hold,” he pointed out, jerking his thumb behind him.

Shiro had to concede to his point; they tended to get violent during heat.

Sendak didn’t wait another second and shoved Shiro against the tree, inserting his leg in between his thighs.

Shiro’s gasp was swallowed by Sendak’s mouth, and he twitched as he felt slick seep out of him, igniting the embers of his arousal. Suddenly, his entire body was on fire. The parts of his skin that weren’t being touched by Sendak tingled.

“Sendak,” he breathed against his lips, earning an answering growl.

Sendak was careful not to cut him with his teeth, but Shiro’s concerns had all but faded, besieged by his growing need.

The last time he’d been in heat, fighting against his need had been agony. Hours stacked upon hours, where his only hope had been waiting for the suffering to end. Now, he succumbed to the lust rolling over him, allowing himself to fall under. He thrust against the top of Sendak’s thigh, his hands roaming freely over the thick fur on his chest.

He let out a whine when Sendak pulled him to his feet, but it was only to fumble with his bodysuit, clawing at his pants uselessly. He was a good few heads taller than Shiro, and standing there, shivering with hot need, Shiro barely gave it a second thought before he stepped forward and yanked the remaining fabric down past his hips.

His dick immediately sprang into view, the two tentacle-like appendages unfurling on either side. Shiro’s mouth watered.

Sendak growled something that might have been thanks, but Shiro was too preoccupied with trying to maneuver him into position on the forest floor. They struggled against each other for a moment; Shiro wanted him to lie on his back, and Sendak’s instincts were likely screaming at him to have Shiro on his knees. Eventually Shiro relented, his resistance crumbling as his body reminded him that he was more than ready.

He sank onto his hands knees, spreading his legs wide. Sendak crouched low over his back, the hairs over his chest and stomach tickling Shiro’s shoulder blades. He felt his thick length tease at his entrance, rubbing the head briefly over his wet hole before retreating. Shiro was shivering, his body tight as wire.

“Sendak come on—” he was cut off as he felt him press the bulbous head of his sex into his ass. He arched, bearing down on the sensation, but Sendak pulled away, sliding the ridges against his hole.

“You are eager,” Sendak said roughly, working his hips at a languid pace. “But we can’t break you.” He took Shiro by his chin, claw prodding delicately at his lower lip. “Not yet.”

“Don’t care.” Shiro’s tongue darted out at licked at his nail. “I want you to fuck me, I  _ need _ you to fuck me.”

He leaned back, grinding his ass against Sendak’s groin. Sendak made a sound deep in his chest, and his skin broke out into goosebumps. He gripped Shiro by his hips and then thrust his sex into him inch by painful inch.

And it fucking hurt.

Shiro’s natural lubricant did wonders, and with a regular alpha toy he could take it easily, but Sendak was long and he was  _ thick. _

Sweat broke out along his skin. Shiro tried to relax, taking deep, even breaths. Despite the pain, he was hard, precome oozing from the tip of his cock. Every time Sendak inched further inside him, it twitched. He tried not to squirm.

“I have missed this,” Sendak growled from above. He thrust tentatively, burying himself to the hilt.

It was so, so much. Shiro’s head bowed, mouth falling open as he rubbed the ridges directly against his prostate. He felt himself gush, slick sliding down his thighs in thick droplets. Sendak made another sound, louder now, and pulled out, only to thrust back inside Shiro.

“God,” Shiro breathed, digging his fingers into the sand. “Oh, my god.”

“You are so soft and  _ warm. _ ” Another thrust; reaching deeply inside Shiro before receding. He moved like a never-ending tide, his pace slow, so slow. Much slower than Shiro wanted. He saw stars flicker behind his eyelids but he wanted  _ constellations _ .

“Harder,” he urged, clawing at the dirt, pushing back into Sendak. “Fuck me as hard as you can, Sendak.”

He needed no more goading. A sharp moan erupted out of Shiro as Sendak crouched over his body and slammed into him, again, then again.

Within minutes, Shiro was catapulting through his first orgasm, and they hadn’t even started. His arms struggled to maintain his weight, Sendak’s wild thrusts forcing his palms deeper into the dirt.

They were outside, fucking like animals, forced into this circumstance yet enjoying it fully. It was filthy. He  _ felt _ filthy.

Sendak pulled out, drawing a hiss from Shiro. He whined, leaning forward, and Sendak planted his arm in the sand, using the new angle to fuck him deeply. He was close—so close to where Shiro wanted him. His insides felt tight and hot; molten.

He wanted—there was something else he needed. Something more.

“Breed me,” he blurted, not sure where it had come from, but knowing that was it—that was what he wanted. His instincts were screaming; he wanted his alpha to breed him, to mark him.

Sendak’s pace stuttered and slowed; Shiro thought he had made a grave mistake, but then he  _ moved _ , and oh, god, it was everything Shiro wanted, everything he’d been imagining since day one. Hard and fast and he was  _ growling, _ saying words in a language that Shiro didn’t understand.

He arched backwards, fingers sliding uselessly over Sendak’s forearm, the words stuck in his throat.  _ Please, please, please. _

“Yes,” Sendak growled from deep, deep within his chest. “I’m going to breed you, my mate.  _ Yes.” _

“Yes,” Shiro gasped. “Do it,  _ ah— _ ” Sendak ground into his ass, reaching deep, so deep, and Shiro lost his remaining composure, shaking so badly that he could barely hold himself up.

Sendak leaned over, nuzzling the nape of his neck. His lips grazed the bond, and Shiro’s attention zeroed in on that small point of contact between them. It felt like he was on  _ fire,  _ skin buzzing, tingling.

Sendak pulled their bodies close and buried his teeth into the bond.

Shiro opened his mouth, and what came out was a scream. The sun exploded behind his eyes, sending him reeling. An intense, powerful sensation of pleasure welled inside him and he pitched forward, quivering, his vision going white hot.

“Sendak,” he rasped, followed by a litany of soft, injured sounds as Sendak rammed inside of him and then stayed there. The two tentacles curled around his thighs, wet with slick, moved and squirmed to find a place besides Sendak’s thick member.

The moment he’d been knotted, the wild part of Shiro’s psych calmed, and all the things he’d said came rushing back to him in an instant.

Redfaced, Shiro lifted himself by his arms, but they gave it within a few seconds. Sendak wrapped his arm around his middle and pulled him back until he was sitting in his lap, bracketed by his thighs. It was as comfortable as they were going to get, considering the circumstances.

In addition to being stuck together, they were covered in sand, dirt and a plethora of fluids. Shiro grimaced, doing his best to wipe away the worst of it on his inner thighs. Sendak didn’t seem bothered; he caught Shiro’s hand mid-swipe and licked at his fingers.

Shiro shivered. His cock twitched. He’d almost forgotten in all the chaos that he somehow hadn’t come. He reached for his cock, but Sendak knocked his hand away, wrapping his palm around the organ.

“What are you—?”

“During our mating, you receive pleasure from my sex, but I am curious about this part of you. I have always neglected to pleasure it.”

He stroked it from base to tip, gathering the wetness and spreading it. Shiro twitched, toes curling in the grass. During a knotting he was  _ unbearably _ sensitive, but it felt so good that he couldn’t bring himself to stop Sendak. In an embarrassingly short amount of time he was on the brink of coming. He tried to pry Sendak’s fingers away from his cock, but he persisted until Shiro couldn’t hold out any longer and leaned his head back against Sendak’s chest, shuddering through his orgasm.

“You are incredibly receptive,” Sendak purred, stroking him for a few more seconds. He seemed unperturbed by the semen staining his fur and wiped the remainder on Shiro’s bodysuit nearby.

“Thanks,” Shiro said, wrinkling his nose. Sendak smirked. “It’s not necessary, exactly, but it feels good. I was never sure if, uh, foreplay was something your species, er, engaged in.”

“I can’t speak for our entire species, but I rarely had time for ‘foreplay’. Mating was always enough before I met you.” Shiro felt him nose at his throat, sliding his tongue over the bondmark. Blood still seeped sluggishly from the wound. “Now I feel the strangest urge to do  _ more _ .”

He brought his finger around to Shiro’s front, prodding at his rim. Shiro squirmed, forcing the makeshift knot even deeper inside him. Had Sendak been a normal alpha, Shiro’s orgasm would have triggered Sendak’s, which in turn made it easier for him to get pregnant. As it stood, such a thing was impossible.

A very, very small part of Shiro that was deep in the heat mindset might have been disappointed.

* * *

After Shiro was ready for another round, Sendak tried to urge them both towards the spring to wash themselves, but Shiro was having none of it. He couldn’t keep his hands off of Sendak for more than a few seconds.

Shiro instincts screamed every time that Sendak looked away, fearing he might try and leave. Sendak was patient, fucking him long after the sun had gone down and they could barely see two feet in front of them. Both of them were a mess, covered in more fluids and dirt than Shiro would like to admit, but he didn’t care—he couldn’t care. He needed everything Sendak could give him.

“I’ll be gone for just a moment,” Sendak said, just after Shiro had been knotted for the eighth time.

“Don’t leave, don’t leave, please don’t leave,” Shiro babbled, fingers scraping at his fur. “I need you, Sendak, I  _ need _ you.”

Sendak made an angry sound in the back of his throat, but it wasn’t directed at Shiro.

“A moment,” he growled, cupping Shiro’s cheek. “Just to stoke the fire and get you more water. I will be back. I promise you.”

“No, no—” Shiro couldn’t take it for that long. He tried to reach for Sendak’s hand, but his ass and thighs were sore, and he couldn’t muster the strength. Sendak departed, taking his scent and Shiro’s sanity with him. 

For a few minutes he tried to hold on, squirming, whimpering,  _ writhing _ , but when it became too much, he couldn’t hold back his cries.

* * *

Sendak found him in the same position, desperately grinding down on his own fingers. The moment that Shiro smelled him he leapt to his feet and started pawing at his chest.

“Sendak,  _ Sendak _ .”

“I’m here.” He buried his face in Shiro’s throat, licking hot stripes up his neck. They kissed, and Sendak pushed his tongue past Shiro’s lips, licking at the inside of his mouth and swallowing his groans. To his right was the fire, still burning bright, and he corralled Shiro in that direction only so he could set the water down to be boiled.

The rational part of Shiro knew that he was being unreasonable, but that part of him had fled the instant he’d gone into heat. Sendak didn’t seem to mind; if anything, it made him wilder; more on edge.

Shiro’s back hit the jungle floor and within seconds Sendak was crouched over his body, plunging inside his ass. Shiro wound his arms around Sendak’s neck and buried his nose in Sendak’s fur, breathing in his scent.

The smell was—different, somehow. It was indescribable: an amalgamation of the words  _ mate  _ and  _ home _ , words that he couldn’t identify in the heat of the moment. He breathed Sendak’s name over and over, and felt something in his chest go tight when he realized that this would probably never happen again once they were rescued.

“What?” Sendak murmured into his ear, sensing his distress.

Shiro almost said it. He was tempted, his heart aching, but he knew even now that it would do nothing. Their fates had been sealed; Sendak would never come with him, even if he could somehow convince the paladins he was trustworthy.

“Nothing,” he said eventually. Sendak eyed him suspiciously, but he didn’t press him, and Shiro was glad for it.

* * *

Two days later, Sendak saw them.

The  _ paladins _ .

Had he been asked, he would have admitted that he did not believe the paladins would ever find them. So far from his main ship, and what with the radio wave distortion of this sector, it was doubtful. When he saw a dark streak pass over the sky, he nearly chalked it up as one of the large aerial species inhabiting the planet until he realized that it had a very  _ specific _ shape.

It was a lion. The blue lion, to be exact.

Sendak watched the blue lion roam over the planet’s surface from under the tree that shaded him, eyes narrowed. He hated the light—it made his eye ache—but it was necessary to work during the daytime if he wanted to tune his schedule to Shiro’s.

_ Ugh. _ He was disgusted with himself.

During his time on this forsaken planet, he had become maddeningly complacent. Not only was he catering to all of Shiro’s whims, but he was...  _ feeling _ things. Things he could no longer find it in himself to deny.

He thought of Shiro’s smile when he realized that his little friends had arrived and felt something his chest go warm. At the same time, bile rose in the back of his throat. He curled his fist.

The blue lion was still far away and hadn’t yet noticed him, nor had its pilot spotted the black lion. A part of Sendak was tempted, so very tempted to hide Shiro away from their prying eyes; convince them that he had killed him or sent him away. Given time, he could do it. They wouldn’t kill him, and once they were gone, Shiro would remain.

Sendak’s fist uncurled. He let out a harsh breath.

Shiro would never be content on this planet with him. He had shown time and again that he was suited to being up there with his merry band of heroes and their meager attempts to thwart Zarkon’s plans.

He had always longed to be free, and Sendak could not find it in himself to try to restrain him any longer. He had been lucky that Shiro had showed up in this solar system and given him brief relief before his exile began once and for all.

The blue lion turned and lowered itself, its pilot gesturing towards a spot of land in excitement. It had finally spotted the black lion.

_ So, this is the end. _

He turned and descended into the jungle.

* * *

_ “What?!” _

“I will not repeat myself,” Sendak warned half-heartedly. “Your paladins have finally come to this location, against all odds.”

Shiro was gaping, wide-eyed. He searched Sendak’s face for indication that he was lying, but Sendak’s face was blank, completely void of expression. Almost suspiciously so.

“I, I can’t believe it. This is amazing!” Shiro wanted to shout to the heavens. They’d been here for months and he’d just been beginning to lose hope. It was like a dream. 

“Did they see you?” he added cautiously.

“Of course not,” Sendak snarled. “I am no fool.”

“Right, yeah.” In contrast to Sendak’s sudden irate mood, Shiro couldn’t stop grinning. Excitement bubbled inside him and he wanted to scream and shout in relief.

First, however, he needed to get dressed. Sendak had caught him in the middle of his bath—he’d waited only until Shiro gave him his attention to deliver the news. Shiro quickly slipped into his bodysuit and hurriedly reached for his armor.

“I hope they’re okay,” he said to no one in particular. He combed his fingers through his hair, resigning himself to looking like he’d been living in the jungle for the last few weeks. “Last time I saw them, things weren’t going so great.” He frowned, fingers going still over his chestpiece. “I hope they weren’t captured.”

“Unlikely, from what little I know.” Sendak leaned against a nearby tree, observing Shiro dress himself unabashedly. “You and your ilk are unbearably resilient in the face of danger.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about ‘my ilk’,” Shiro teased, He plucked at the bodysuit, still damp from being rinsed, and turned to face Sendak. “How do I look?”

“Like a drowned rodent,” Sendak replied, eye glinting with humor. Shiro returned his smirk with a smile of his own and started for camp. He began walking, but soon he was running, trying to reach a point where he could communicate with his fellow the paladins.

Back at camp, there was a strange crackling sound coming from his helmet. After months of silence, being able to shove his helmet on his head and hear Lance’s voice calling his name was  _ bliss. _

“Lance!” he cried, unable to contain his joy. “Can you hear me?”

“Shiro, oh my god!” Then was a rapid string of words that Shiro couldn’t hope to understand—some of which might have been Spanish. He waited patiently as Lance collected himself and clued in the other paladins.

“Shiro!” came Keith’s voice, heavy with relief and exhaustion. “We’ve been looking for you for ages.”

“You have no idea what it’s been like here. I’ve been—” he nearly said  _ with Sendak, _ but stopped himself just in time. 

Neither Keith nor Lance seemed to notice, and kept talking over each other to try and fill Shiro in. He grinned, walking towards the edge of the forest to see if he could spot anyone from his position. “What happened after the wormhole was compromised?”

“It was crazy!” Lance exclaimed. “Hunk, Keith, and I were trapped in this water world and—”

“Why don’t we save that story for when Shiro’s back with us?” Keith interrupted. “I’m sure he wants to go home after being trapped here alone for so long.”

“How did you  _ find _ me?” Shiro asked, despite himself. He looked towards his black lion and nearly let out a cry when he saw Lance’s lion standing next to his. “I see your lion, Lance! Can you see me? I’m at the edge of the jungle.” He started waving at the small blur near both lions.

“Shiro! Oh, man, there you are. I can’t believe we found you! So much has happened. Pidge’s lion wasn’t working, and we were stuck underwater with  _ Keith _ —”

“Hey!”

“—but now we’re back together. Ready to kick some more Zarkon butt.” He paused. “After I sleep for a few weeks.”

“I hear you,” Shiro said. He couldn’t wait to sleep in a real bed instead of with—

—Sendak.

Shiro bit his lip. Lance and Keith were bound to see the claw marks all over his body, and the campsite didn’t look like a one-person job. Some of Sendak’s armor was still sitting by the tree off to the right.

How the hell was he going to explain this?

“Shiro?”

He realized that Keith had been speaking for a while now. “Oh, sorry guys. I’m…tired. I guess I should gather my things. I’ll meet you down there by my lion, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

“You got it.”

Shiro cut off communication and breathed a sigh of relief. That gave him a few minutes to consider his decision. They’d smell someone else’s scent on him—especially considering his heat had only recently passed—so perhaps it was best he come clean and not try so hard to hide Sendak.

But when he looked behind him; Sendak was nowhere to be found.

A few minutes passed with no sign of him, so he started for his lion, his eagerness getting the better of him. He couldn’t wait; he didn’t  _ want _ to wait. He’d missed them all. Just hearing their voices had given him a boost of energy. 

Soon he was sprinting, trying to get to the ship as ast as possible.

“Shiro!” Lance and Keith waved their arms, walking towards him. The castle was making for land behind them, and the other other lions were rolling out before it had even touched land. Hunk and Pidge were climbing out of their lions.

Lance slammed into Shiro first, knocking his breath out of him. Then Keith was hugging him from the side, and Hunk and Pidge were quick to follow.

Shiro laughed, wrapping his arms around them as best he could.

“Man, it is  _ so _ good to see you.”

“You won’t believe what we’ve been up to.”

“I’ve been helping Coran modify the castle, and we can make real food now!”

“…is that your scent?”

Shiro’s heart skipped a beat.

“One at a time, guys,” he said, quickly steering the conversation away from that particular topic. Lance was still clinging to his middle, but when Shiro ruffled his hair, he sprung away, cheeks inflamed. “I’m glad everyone is safe.”

“Yeah, we were lucky these things are waterproof,” Hunk said. “It was insane. Lance and the mermaids—well,” he stopped, “I’ll tell you later. Once we get you clean up.”

“Yeah, on that note, let’s go.” Keith jerked his head towards the ship. As if on cue, the door slid open and lowered, and Allura came running out.

“Shiro!” she cried, flinging her arms around his neck. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“Princess,” Shiro breathed, relief coursing through him. He had assumed, but no one had mentioned whether or not she’d been okay. “Are you okay?”

“I’m well.” She sounded equally relieved. “It took some time to restore some of our systems after the wormhole was compromised. Pidge and Hunk were essential in helping find your location.” She paused, taking in his appearance. “It’s so good to see you well.”

“You, too, princess.” He smiled. “I’ll be able to tell you everything soon, I promise.”

“You’d better.” She flashed him a smile and then pulled away, facing the others. “Let’s all board the ship. I’m certain Shiro is exhausted from his time away.”

“Right. Let’s do that.”

The next few seconds were like something out of a dream. Pidge and Hunk were crouched by the sand, talking excitedly about its properties. Most of it went over his head. Lance was speaking with Allura and Coran—who’d just shown up—keeping them occupied, and Keith was staring down at his feet.

It was almost back to how things had been before—

Shiro felt his expression crumbling into pieces, the happiness that had been both genuine and a carefully constructed façade failing in the face of what he’d have to bear. He’d suffered through a dying bond once, and now he’d have to suffer through it  _ again. _

_ I don’t know if I can go through that again, _ he thought desperately. Not when it felt this important, this  _ right. _

When he opened his eyes, Keith was staring at him.

Shiro tried to recover his previous cheer, but he faltered in the face of Keith’s suspicion.

Keith’s gaze softened. He approached, speaking low enough that only Shiro could hear him.

“Are you really okay, Shiro?”

“I…yeah.” It must not have been very convincing, because Keith crossed his arms and gave him a pointed look. “I am. I will be.”

“Shiro!” Coran said, coming up from behind and slapping him lightly on the back. “It’s good to see you! We were struggling to find your location when Pidge had the brilliant idea to—”

“Perhaps we should save this for the ship,” Allura said quickly. “I’m sure Shiro wants to rest.”

“Right, of course.” He nodded at Shiro.

They started walking. Shiro followed, but lagged behind, casting furtive glances at the forest behind them in hopes that Sendak would be peering at them through the brush.

_ Can I really just leave? _

When he couldn’t take it any longer, he stopped, drawing the attention of the paladins in front.

“Shiro?”

“I’m sorry, guys, I forgot something. Hold on!”

He started running, ignoring their frantic calls. He reached the forest’s edge and plunged inside, looking around wildly for Sendak.

“Sendak!” he called. “Where are you?”

“You look troubled,” came a voice from behind him.

Shiro jumped, spinning around to face Sendak, who had crept up behind Shiro, nearly silent in his approach..

“Sendak, thank God. I thought I’d missed you.”

“I thought that was your intention. You’re leaving with your paladins.” 

It sounded like an accusation. Shiro felt something in his gut twist, and the words were out of his mouth before he’d even considered the logic of what he was saying.

“You don’t have to stay here.”

Sendak eye went wide with surprise, but he remained silent, waiting for Shiro to continue.

“I mean it,” Shiro continued. “This place is like a prison. You’d be miserable stuck here.”

Sendak’s silence remained, stretching on uncomfortably long. Shiro squeezed his eyes shut, feeling foolish, and yet unable to stop himself.

“Come with us.”

“No.” Sendak’s response was immediate.

“I’ll talk to them,” Shiro insisted, undeterred. “You won’t be locked up like before. At the very least—” he chewed on his lower lip, “at the very least, we can drop you off somewhere more pleasant.”

“Have you forgotten that I am your enemy?”

“I know that!” Shiro’s heart lurched uncomfortably in his chest. He didn’t  _ want _ to leave Sendak here by himself. He’d changed, and he might keep changing if only he could see why Zarkon had to be stopped. “I just…don’t like the thought of you being here alone, okay?”

Sendak snorted, avoiding Shiro’s eye. “Reserve your kindness for your friends; it’s wasted on me. I will not be taken prisoner on that ship of yours.”

“But you’re not a Galra soldier anymore! You could come with us.” Shiro approached Sendak, laying a hand on his bicep. “With me. Help us fight against Zarkon.”

Sendak looked at him then, staring at Shiro with an expression he couldn’t identify.

“You always knew this bond was little more than a farce. You belong with them,” he said, his voice going soft. He nodded towards the ship. “Go, before they decide to come looking for you.”

Anger ignited a flame inside Shiro, but faded as quickly as it had come. Sendak wouldn’t look at him, his claws digging deep divots into his skin, an indication that for all that he pretended he could easily brush aside their relationship, he was just as frightened of the uncertain future as Shiro. Before either of them had realized it, the bond that tied them had become a place of solace for not just Shiro, but also Sendak, and he was dealing with it the only way he knew how: by pretending none of it affected him in any way.

The silence between them stretched on.

Shiro knew that there was no way Sendak would be allowed on the ship without being contained, and hell, if any of the paladins knew what had gone on between them, they’d surely doubt Shiro’s judgment.

He glanced back at Allura's ship, standing tall and proud.

Maybe it was better this way.

Shiro wrapped his arms around Sendak’s neck, pulling him down. He breathed in his scent, trying to remember, commit it to memory. He couldn’t say that they’d been in love, nor did he know if he would ever want to spend his life being bonded to Sendak, but...

“Sendak—” His mouth fell open, words briefly failing him. “Thank you.”

Sendak grunted in reply. There was another short stretch of silence, and then he pressed his mouth against the bondmark.

“Your thanks are unnecessary,” he said quietly. “It is I who has benefitted the most.”

They kissed, and it was sweet. A part of Shiro was tempted to try to convince Sendak to join him one last time, but he knew better than to voice those thoughts. He was safer here, away from the dangers of this war.

“I have to go,” he said instead.

“While I can’t say I expect you will defeat Zarkon,” Sendak started, brushing his knuckles along Shiro’s cheeks, “It would be a shame if you perished in my absence.”

Shiro smiled. “I’ll try not to,” he said. 

When he left, he forced himself not to look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I didn't necessarily mean it would end happily in this installment lol 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Check out the sequel by clicking on the series! Hope you enjoy!


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